


The Show Must Go On

by Fatale (femme)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Epistolary, Gun Violence, Happy Ending, M/M, implied animal cruelty, the bodyguard - Freeform, violence at a club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:30:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 21,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15575832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme/pseuds/Fatale
Summary: Alec pulls up to the gold intercom positioned at the enormous front gates. Like everything owned by the obscenely wealthy, they’re proportioned for both for giants and giant egos.He’d hoped this would be easier, less gut-churning work than protecting diplomats and foreign dignitaries, some guilty of truly terrible things, but being a bodyguard for a coddled popstar who can’t even be bothered with basic safety isn’t his idea of a good time.---Magnus is a popstar and Alec is his reluctant bodyguard.The bodyguard au in epistolary form. Image-heavy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what i'm doing. posting this on twitter as a social media au, but needed a place to dump the prose, but it's unreadable without the images, so here we are.
> 
> edited 11/8/2018 - dumb photobucket watermarked all my images, i will be finding another site to host and slowly moving them in the next couple of weeks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/01_zps0uts1s5w.jpg.html)

 

 

 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/2_zpsnhqbnfmy.png.html)

 

\--

 

 

 

 

A text from Ragnor to Magnus:

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/1_zps8axihrj6.png.html)

 

 ---

 

The next morning, Alec pulls up to the gold speaker box positioned at the enormous front gates. Like everything owned by the obscenely wealthy, they’re proportioned for both for giants and giant egos.

The box crackles to life and a tinny voice asks him to state his reason for being here. _To save your employer’s life_ , Alec thinks. On a hunch, Alec says, “Dickie Greenleaf here to see Magnus Bane. I have an appointment.”

The gate opens with a buzz, and Alec pulls up the long winding driveway.

“What the fuck,” Alec mumbles to himself. He's pretty sure he's just been mistaken for a drug dealer. Honestly, a celebrity gets death threats and his staff doesn’t even bother to keep an itinerary? He’d hoped this would be easier, less gut-churning work than protecting diplomats and foreign dignitaries, some guilty of terrible things, but being a bodyguard for a coddled popstar who can’t even be bothered with basic safety isn’t his idea of a good time.

Not that he’s had a good time in a while or even remembers what that might feel like.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

Magnus’ phone buzzes insistently next to his head. He rolls over, grabs the phone, and pushes up his silk sleep mask. Squinting at the phone, he double-checks the time. Six am? The message says his appointment is here, but that can’t be right--

The security guard, must be. He’s early. What kind of a brute shows up so early in the morning? Magnus can already tell they’re going to _hate_ each other.

He’s tempted to make the man wait until their scheduled appointment, but that seems like it’s asking for trouble. After all, his head of security, Ragnor, specifically ordered Magnus to be nice to this one. Apparently, Ragnor blames him for running off the previous six. It's not Magnus' fault bodyguards have such delicate sensibilities. 

Magnus sucks in an irritated breath and tosses back the covers. Might as well go ahead and get this over with.

 

\---

  
The first thing Magnus notices while making his way down the winding staircase is that his new bodyguard is tall, tall, tall. And normally that would be a huge turn on, but the judgmental expression, nose wrinkled in distaste as his eyes travel Magnus head to toe slowly like he’s personally weighing Magnus and finds him lacking, automatically makes Magnus’ hackles rise.

“Alec Lightwood,” the man says, not extending a hand. He’s surprisingly soft-spoken.

“Charmed,” Magnus bites out.

Alec is objectively beautiful, even in his staid and ill-fitting suit, Magnus notes distractedly, but it hardly matters when he’s there to be an enormous pain in Magnus’ ass and not in a way either of them will enjoy.

“Does your security always let just anyone in?” Alec asks in the bitchiest, most tight-assed voice Magnus has ever heard.

Magnus would like to say he’s mature enough not to rise to the obvious bait, but he’s tired and hungover, and he’s just not.

“They’re used to people dropping by at odd times. A side effect of being an international superstar and very desirable.”

“Mm hm,” Alec says, cutting his gaze away to stare at a solid gold life-sized lion, admittedly not one of Magnus’ most prudent or practical purchases. “Well, international superstar, I’m probably going to walk to the perimeter of your property and take a look at your current security.”

“Knock yourself out,” Magnus says. _Literally_ , he thinks.

 

 ---

 

A text from Ragnor to Magnus:

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/3_zpszvvcbkxt.png.html)

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/4_zpsfmmpor9r.png.html)

 

\---

 

A furious text from Magnus to Catarina:

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/3a_zpskfjjptgs.png.html)

 

\---

 

 

\---

 

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for this. i have no clue what i'm doing.

[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/8_zpskj75drie.png.html)>

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/8b_zpsgpi1mo1h.png.html)

 

\---

 

“I’m his driver and personal assistant number three,” Kevin says, a slight young man dressed in all black with odd gold detailing. Alec assumes Magnus picks his staffs’ uniforms, unless he’s somehow managed to find thirty people with equally tacky taste.

Kevin is showing Alec to the pool house where he’s been invited to stay while he works for Magnus for however long their arrangement lasts. He had heard the last bodyguard lasted two months before quitting the business and getting a job as a cashier at Trader Joe’s, where he’s much happier and has Dental and Medical.

“Exactly how many personal assistants does Magnus have?” Alec asks, a little afraid of the answer.

“Four,” Kevin says, “but I’m also the driver. Catarina is his best friend, and she’s the first PA. She takes care of all his appointments and helps book venues along with his tour manager, his head of security--”

“Yeah,” Alec interrupts. “Got it. There’s a lot of staff. Can I get a list of everyone and their schedules?”

“You’ll have to ask Ragnor for that.”

After what feels like four miles of walking past enormous pools -- one warm water and one cool, Kevin explains -- they arrive at the pool house, which is bigger than anything Alec has ever lived in, including when he was briefly assigned to someone staying at the Pentagon. “Who keeps chandeliers in a pool house,” Alec says.

“You should see how many he has in the garage,” Kevin says with a small chuckle.

Kavin’s nervous and mousey and already breathing hard from their leisurely walk through Magnus’ backyard, but Alec likes him. Out of everyone he’s met so far, Kevin seems like the only normal one.

Kevin drops off his “luggage” -- two duffle bags that Alec bought a decade ago at the army surplus -- while Alec carefully holds on to his gun case.

“Call up to the main house if you need anything. There’s always someone on staff in case Magnus wakes up in the middle of the night and needs--”

Alec raises an eyebrow. He thinks he knows, but he wants to hear Kevin confirm it. “Needs?”

“He gets the munchies and likes Flaming Hot Cheetos.”

“Oh,” Alec says, disconcerted. That was not the answer he was expecting.

“I mean, I haven’t been here long. I heard it used to be wilder around here, but apparently, Magnus had a bad breakup and since then, it’s uh, the Cheetos mostly.”

“Are you always this indiscreet?”

Kevin flushes and scurries off, and Alec feels a momentary pang of regret. Izzy’s always telling him to stop being scary and unpleasant, but Alec honestly doesn’t mean to. He just likes certainty and clarity and has a habit of demanding it in direct and unpleasant ways.

Alec walks through the double French doors into the living room and looks around. One wall is covered with an enormous TV, the other side, a fully stocked bar. On the far wall, there are DVDs, a sound system, and some books. Alec drops his bags off next to the couch and sets his locked gun case on the coffee table and looks over the titles crowding the bookcase.

Jesus fucking Christ, it’s an entire wall of Magnus Bane, Alec realizes, rolling his eyes. It’s recordings of concerts, music videos, biographies. Everything on the bookcase relates to Magnus in some way, as if Alec could possibly forget whose home he’s standing in.

Alec checks out the bedroom. Of course, above the bed, there’s a life-sized painting of Magnus depicted as Olympia, reclining on a chaise lounge with a delicately-placed hand preserving what little modesty he has.

“Unbelievable,” Alec says.

 

 

 

[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/7_zpsyrwygrpz.png.html)


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

 

 

 

 

[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/9_zps35pqlkfi.png.html)/>

 

 

 

 

  
Alec has lived here less than 72 hours and Magnus is already 100% done with him. He changes his schedule on a whim, the noise from the construction installing new gates and security cameras is cutting into his much needed writing time, not that he’s written much for the past few years. Still, if he wanted to, he couldn’t.

Magnus sets his teacup down with a clatter, dark brown liquid sloshing over the side. Beside him, Chairman Meow jumps, glares at Magnus, and saunters back into the bedroom.

Magnus stands up and walks further out onto to his balcony, watching the construction workers. Alec gets up early and does a morning run around the perimeter of the property. For someone that doesn’t like Magnus to have a routine, he’s incredibly stuck in his own. Alec surveys the construction work, goes to the gym to gym to exercise for an hour, then disappears for a bit. Then he stays glued to Magnus’ like leather pants on a hot day.

Yesterday, he’d gone shopping and Alec had followed him like his very own dour shadow, face impassive as Magnus tried on increasingly wild outfits to try to goad a reaction out of him.

“Can you get this in the hot pink?” Magnus asked, flipping the green pants over the changing room door.

“I’m not your personal shopper,” Alec said, jaw clenched in a no doubt very masculine and irritatingly attractive way. “Get it yourself.”

“Fine,” Magnus snapped, throwing the door open and stomping out in his black briefs and nothing else. Alec averted eyes quickly, neck turning a lovely shade of light pink. Interesting.

Magnus made it less than two feet before a gaggle of personal shoppers descended to help him, all dedicated to him personally, since the shop was shut down in anticipation of his visit. He wouldn’t actually mind shopping with other people, but shops don’t want the chaos that would ensue and it’s not an option, so Magnus does it give much thought anymore, no matter how much it might bother him.

“What do you think of these, Alec?” Magnus asked, holding the neon pants up. Even Magnus had to admit, they were a bit much.

“I’m not paid to have an opinion,” Alec said.

“Or a personality, apparently,” Magnus muttered, suddenly missing his old bodyguard with the walker. At least _he_ had an opinion on fashion, even if it was that Magnus should only wear red and blue suits like Glady and the Pips.

Magnus ended up buying the pants in every eye-watering color the shop had just to annoy Alec.

 

 

 ---

 

 an angry text from Magnus to Alec:

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/11_zps5gkwxb87.png.html)

 

 

 

 ---

 

Still furious:

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/11b_zpsjvbx9fnt.png.html)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this isn't really readable for me on my phone, so i'm going through this weekend and resizing the images. please let me know what you think!

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/13_zps3tootpao.png.html)

On his bed, which even Magnus has to admit veers straight past good taste and parks its gigantic four-poster ass in the middle of gaudy, sits a tiny black paper gift bag.

Curiously, Magnus crosses the room, plush shag carpet swallowing his footsteps and picks up the bag.

_“Saw this and thought you could use it.” -- A_

Magnus takes the tissue paper out of the bag and tosses it over his shoulder carelessly. Inside is a small black jewelry box. Magnus pulls off the lid and nestled within thick velvet, is a lovely silver cross with a black jewel in the center.

Magnus runs his fingertips reverently over the ornate etching, unsure what to think.

It’s beautiful.

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/14_zps6xbereu2.jpg.html)

 

 

\---

 

 

 A text from Alec to Magnus:

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

A text from Alec to Ragnor:

  


 

 

 ---

 

 

A text between Ragnor and Kevin:  
  
  
[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/16c_zps1wnw9kms.png.html)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: rioting, panic attacks

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/17_zpshhvpex0j.jpg.html)

 

 

\---

 

“Remember,” Alec says, “press the button in the center of the necklace if something doesn’t feel right and you need me.”

“I’ve got it,” Magnus scoffs, trying not to roll his eyes and just barely succeeding.

“No, seriously,” Alec says, gripping Magnus’ arm, gaze intense. “The letters have been getting worse -- more graphic, violent. Be careful. _Please_.”

He’s not sure what does it, the quiet earnestness of Alec‘s voice or the fact that Ragnor’s face has been looking increasingly grim while handing over a carefully selected bunch of Magnus‘ fanmail, but a very real shiver of fear slithers up Magnus’ spine.

“Yeah,” Magnus says, a little shaken. “Got it.”

“Whatever happens, I’m here for you,” Alec says before letting him go.

 

\---

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/17b_zpscoz9cu8x.png.html)

 

 

\---

 

  
Magnus looks out over the crowd, the frenzied faces and pulsating lights and can’t help but wonder which one of them wants to hurt him. And though he would like to blame Alec, the problem started long before Alec arrived, long before this album, or even the one before it. Whenever he tries to get close to his audience, to reach out, they always take things too far.

He’s standing on a stage in front of a thousand people chanting his name and has never been so cognizant of being so alone or vulnerable.

Magnus’ chest feels tight, and he can’t pull enough air into his lungs.

Whoever has been threatening him is probably close enough to reach out and touch him.

Without thinking, Magnus stumbles back from the microphone and clasps the cross around his neck, the edges of the metal biting into his palm.

He can’t breathe, he can’t--

The crowd is getting restless. The edges of his vision go blurry and gray, his lips tingle and go numb. His feet are made of lead and he can’t move.

 _Alec_ , he thinks.

Spots dance before his eyes, and his knees buckle. And then there are strong arms around him, an urgent voice in his ear, “Magnus, are you okay?”

“Alec,” Magnus manages to choke out, “get me out of here.”

“Okay, I’ve got you.” Alec urges him back and when Magnus can’t move, he’s being picked up and carried off stage. It’s not dignified, and Alec is muttering about how fucking heavy Magnus is. Magnus is sure he’s going to be absolutely furious later, but all he can hear right now is Alec saying, “I’ve got you,” and Magnus holds on with all of the strength he has left.

 

 

\---

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/17C_zpskfj9aqw4.png.html)

 

\---

 

 

Alec helps Magnus into the car. “The cops will want to talk to Magnus,” Alec tells Ragnor, sitting on Magnus’ other side.

“They can do that at his home,” Ragnor says and tells Kevin to drive.

Alec leans in close to Magnus. “You okay?”

“Alec,” Magnus says.

“I’m here,” Alec tells him, rubbing gentle circles on his back. “Lean forward and breathe in through your nose and blow your breath out slowly through your mouth. You’re going to be okay.”

“You promise?”

Alec has never heard Magnus sound so young or lost. His hand stills. He doesn’t like to make promises he can’t keep, but Magnus needs him and he’s never been able to say no when someone genuinely needs help.

“I promise,” Alec says.

Magnus turns his head to look up at Alec, his dark eyes flashing in the streetlamps. “Keep doing that -- the thing with your hand,” he asks in a small voice.

Alec flattens his hand out and resumes rubbing circles over Magnus’ back, the sharp flares of his shoulder blades, the ribs beneath his fingers.

Magnus’ eyes gradually fall closed. “S’good,” he says. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Alec says, watching the shadows play over Magnus’ peaceful face.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i'm annoying ya'll with the frequent updates, so i'm probably going to hold off on the updates on this for a bit while i work on some other fics.

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/18_zpsqb8a7deq.jpg.html)

  
  


 

 

 

 

After the police take their statements, it’s early morning by the time Alec helps Magnus up to his room while Ragnor does the perimeter sweep. Normally that would be Alec’s job, but Magnus had wanted Alec to stay nearby.

Ragnor had shrugged and offered to take over Alec’s duties for the evening while Alec helped Magnus up the millions of stairs.

“I can walk, I’m not infirm or anything,” Magnus complains, but he doesn’t let go of Alec’s arm.

“Uh huh,” Alec grunts and keeps on trudging up the spiral staircase. Jesus, Magnus should think of getting an elevator in this damn house, but then what excuse would Magnus have for his Norma Desmond Sunset Boulevard cosplay?

Finally, they make it to the bedroom and Magnus goes to the ensuite to get ready for bed. Alec draws the line at helping Magnus dress--or undress--or whatever, his mind wisely skitters away from that line of thought.

Every muscle in his body is sore, worn down from the drama and adrenaline of the evening, and Alec settles on the edge of the bed to wait for Magnus to get done. Exhaustion creeps up on him quickly and before he knows it, his eyes are growing heavy and slipping shut.

When Magnus comes out of the bathroom, face scrubbed clean of makeup and chin tucked down as if he’s shy, Alec jumps up like the 1800 thread count sheet have bitten him in the ass, feeling inordinately guilty without knowing exactly why.

“I’ve never seen cops make a house call before,” Alec says inanely, aware that he’s babbling to cover up his discomfort. “Guess I’m in the big leagues now,” he adds and immediately wants to kick himself. He gets all stupid when he’s tired.

Magnus instantly looks guarded again. “Is that what you think? That I’m just some spoiled asshole that always gets what he wants?”

“I think it would do you some good to be told no for once in your life,” Alec says, parsing his words carefully.

Magnus looks exhausted, dark smudges beneath his eyes.

“I rarely ever get anything I really want,” Magnus says, his tone bitter as he tosses his robe onto the nightstand and crawls into the energumens bed, sinking into the plush mattress. Absurdly, it makes Alec think of Izzy’s Barbie dolls when they were growing up, a small toy in an equally ridiculous, frilly room. Jace used to twist all the heads off her dolls and Alec would pop them back on while promising a tearful Izzy that they would be as good as new, that being broken didn’t ruin them at all.

“Maybe,” Alec says thoughtfully, “we don’t get everything at once. Maybe the universe just gives us what we need right when we need it the most.” He’s not a man prone to self-reflection or deep intellectualism, but nearly getting trampled by a mob of teenagers does tend to make one philosophical.

Besides, with the moon high in the night sky, casting silvery light over Magnus’ bedroom, the air still and the house unusually somber, it feels like a night for quiet truths.

“You’ll stay tonight?” Magnus asks finally. “Please just--don’t leave me alone.”

Alec leans forward and tucks the blankets in around him. “I’m not going anywhere,” Alec tells him and settles into the chair next to the bed.

 

 

  
[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/19c_zpss8azzmgu.png.html)


	8. Chapter 8

[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/19d_zpsjehxdprt.png.html)>

 

 

 ---

 

  
Alec puts his phone back in his pocket and takes a deep breath, staring up into the sky and trying to relax his muscles. Magnus woke up on and off all night and most of the day, and Alec touched his shoulder to get him back to sleep. Someone should have warned him that the chair in Magnus’ room was for decorative purposes only -- overstuffed, uncomfortable, and clearly meant for someone about two feet shorter.

Sometime around midday, Alec awoke in an empty room with a crick in his neck and a blanket carefully placed over his shoulders. Some bodyguard he turned out to be.

Alec’s catching up on his morning run, just making his way around the back of the property when he gets a cramp in his left calf. He stumbles to a halt and pauses to stretch out his leg and hears his spine pop alarmingly. Good god, he’s getting too old for overnighters and concerts with glow sticks. He peels his shirt off and uses it to mop up the beads of sweat rolling down his face and chest. Next to him, a hedgerow sucks in a sharp breath.

Alec looks around, instantly on alert. When nothing moves, Alec exhales, laughing softly at himself.

He’s exhausted, he reasons. Maybe the lack of sleep is playing tricks on him.

From the corner of his eye, Alec sees a glint of gold before the hedges rustle and he swears he sees Magnus’ back beating a hasty retreat across the manicured lawn.

“What the fuck just happened?” Alec mutters, blinking.

 

 

\---

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/24_zpsbdhhdq0c.png.html)

 

\---

 

“Are you really planning a makeup concert?” Catarina asks, laying out his clothes for the day.

Magnus makes a face at the black ensemble and Catarina rolls her eyes. “I’m your personal assistant, not a stylist. Hire Izzy again or stop bitching about what I pick out.”

“I have to get ahead of the narrative,” Magnus explains, shucking off his sweat-soaked shirt. Alec can run like a motherfucker. “I read the internet gossip. They’re saying I’m infirm!”

“You shouldn’t attach so much importance to what random people say about you, you know,” Catarina says, looking somber.

Magnus wanders out to the balcony, relishing the breeze against his overheated skin. Unaware of his audience, Alec passes beneath and stops to check his phone.

Catarina joins Magnus on the balcony silently, but Magnus barely registers her because Alec is drinking from his water bottle, a beat up steel one, throat bared and shiny with sweat beneath the bright sun.

 _Lord preserve me_ , Magnus thinks and shivers.

 

\---

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/25_zpsfzwbddh2.png.html)


	9. Chapter 9

An email from an old foe:

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/a_zpsslvx7oiu.png.html)

 

 

 

His response:

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/b_zpsvzcybiby.png.html)

 

 

 

 

“Camille wants to combine tours?” Catarina asks, rolling her eyes.

He doesn’t generally engage in pettiness, but Ragnor can’t help but snort. “I heard she couldn’t even fill Norva Theatre, and that only seats 1500. I bet she would like to tour with Magnus.”

“Be careful with her,” Catarina warns.

“I think she’s hurt Magnus as much as she can,” Ragnor says dismissively.

 

 

\---

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/24_zpsnqcsmofo.png.html)

 

\---

 

With the next two performances canceled, Alec is at odds. There’s only so many times he can check the perimeter and go over Magnus’ daily itinerary. Magnus is laying low, shockingly docile and cooperative. It makes Alec suspicious.

He takes out his gun case, unlocks it, and lays out his guns out on the coffee table in order of favorite to least favorite. He carefully breaks them down and cleans them, using a cleaning rod and his favorite bore brush, which has lent itself to some unkind jokes at his expense from Jace and Izzy over the years.

All finished, he pulls his longbow from the duffle bag and sets it next to his guns. They make bigger and better bows now, but he prefers the basic style. There’s something calming about having utter control. The win belongs totally to him, but so does the failure.

From across the room, Magnus Bane’s wall of utter vanity mocks him.

Alec sighs and pulls a DVD off the shelf at random.

 

\---

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/20_zpswbovfpvw.png.html)

 

 

\---

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/21_zpslenpikxv.png.html)


	10. Chapter 10

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/25_zpsg9htgzb3.png.html)

 

 

\---

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/28_zpsnwxtlwpc.png.html)

 

 

\---

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/Dk9xEb0W4AAdmNG_zpspbmx1wvo.jpg.html)

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/Dk9xFgHWsAAGhD8_zpsamevoowp.jpg.html)

 

 

\---

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/27_zpsjen0gyrc.png.html)

 

\---

 

  
“I confess that my body is extremely attracted to his body, but I’m still not sure where that leaves us,” Magnus says, gazing across the yard to the pool house, lit up like a lighthouse in the dark sky. If Magnus focuses, he can see the oversized TV screen.

“Who are you talking to?” Ragnor asks, strolling into Magnus’ bedroom without knocking. Magnus would have thought he’d have learned his lesson after some of the things he’d seen over the years, but he mostly took in the scenes, unperturbed and telling Magnus to be sure to use the safety harness if Magnus insisted on continuing these shenanigans. Ragnor is mostly unflappable and unsurprised by the endless well of Magnus' bullshit.

“Chairman Meow, of course,” Magnus tells him, gesturing at the bored-looking cat lounging on his bed.

“Glad to know some things don’t change,” Ragnor says. He sets down a stack of fan mail on Magnus' desk, but only the most benign letters. Every day, he picks twenty of them for Magnus to personally answer.

“Mmm hmm," Magnus says, distracted. Alec seems to be watching one of Magnus’ music videos, and Magnus isn’t sure what to do with that information. Alec always does seem to be in the habit of surprising him. 

Something happened the night of the disastrous club performance that irrevocably changed the nature of their relationship, like two pieces from entirely different puzzles unexpectedly snapping together. The solidness of Alec, the kindness when he stayed with Magnus during the police questioning, the way he touched Magnus more carefully than anyone has for as long as Magnus could remember, rubbing circles into his back as if Alec could wipe away everything Magnus didn’t like about himself.

It made Magnus feel like he could maybe steal some of Alec’s surety, his incredible strength, and use it to bolster his own.

Alec’s immutability stands in direct contrast with his own capriciousness. Magnus regularly changes his mind in the middle of changing his mind. In order to stay on top, he’s reinvented himself so many times, he barely knows who he is.

Also, Magnus thinks, staring hard at the pool house as if by concentrating, he might suddenly develop x-ray vision in order to spy on Alec more easily, it’s not like Alec’s exactly hard on the eyes, either.

And on a distinctly petty note, he just loves the way Ragnor’s eye twitches as he looks suspiciously back and forth between Alec and Magnus. That’s always a nice bonus.

 

\---

 

Magnus can’t sleep. He’s had issues with insomnia since he was a young child, probably not helped by years of hard-living, a cocktail of drugs, alcohol, after show parties and pretty groupies. He's gained a bit of a reputation and finds he doesn't like it much. 

He pushes back the covers, slips out of bed, and steps out onto his balcony.

Alec is still watching his videos. Magnus recognizes the tell-flicker of his second music video from his sophomore album. He'd used a terrifying and inadvisable amount of strobe lights.

On impulse, Magnus grabs his robe and slips it on.

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/29_zpskjdwzjs2.png.html)

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/30_zpsg00usoer.png.html)

 

 

\---

 

 

Magnus hesitates briefly, then knocks on the door, looking around. Besides directing the decor six years ago when he moved in to this current home, he hasn’t been to visit this area of his property for a couple years at least.

A few seconds later, Alec answers, hair adorably disheveled and wearing a wrinkled cotton shirt with frayed blue jeans. He looks--

Magnus swallows. The problem with being extremely impulsive is he never has time to think things through. Magnus may be wrong, but it seems unwise to admit that he’s been watching Alec like a giant creep since Alec rescued him at the nightclub.

Alec saves him by asking, “You want to come in?”

“Sure,” Magnus says.

“Sorry for the mess,” Alec says, stepping back and pulling the door open.

“Yes, I can see you're a man of extravagance and means,” Magnus says, pointedly looking down at Alec’s beat-up duffle bags. As far as Magnus can see, Alec’s added nothing except some guns scattered across to the coffee table and some dirty oil rags. It’s all very masculine.

Alec must have been polishing his guns. Magnus suppresses a grin, but only barely.

“This is my favorite video,” Magnus says, looking at the TV. He remembers shooting this. It was earlier in his career, back when success was more of a hope than a surety. He looks at own his face on the TV, a decade younger and so hungry and hopeful, he barely recognizes himself.

“I, uh. I got bored,” Alec says.

“I have cable,” Magnus points out. “Still, I _am_ more entertaining.”

Alec’s face turns a lovely ruddy color. “Your music is good. I like it. I was surprised.”

“My goodness, what will I do with all that praise? I’ll get a big head.”

Alec snorts. “Like you don’t already.”

But Magnus isn’t listening, taken with the bow and arrow spread out across the table. “Well, this is pretty wicked,” Magnus says, picking up a mean-looking arrow and turning it over in his hands.

“Those are dangerous,” Alec warns.

“And you could hurt someone with these pointy sticks?”

“You can hurt someone with just about anything if you’re determined to,” Alec says, taking the arrow from Magnus. He takes Magnus’ outstretched hand and flips it over, pressing the tip of the arrow lightly to his palm. "The human body is surprisingly fragile. It doesn't take much to wound it.”

“How horrifyingly morbid," Magnus says happily.

“Professional bodyguard,” Alec reminds him, laughing, eyes crinkling appealingly at the edges. Magnus likes this loose, relaxed version of Alec. He still hasn’t dropped Magnus’ hand, thumb moving back and forth lightly.

Magnus takes a step forward, close enough to count Alec's eyelashes if he wants. And he does _want_. “So what other delightful things did you learn in your long career?”

It’s like a bucket of ice water’s been thrown at Alec, he steps back so fast.

“I learned when to call it a night,” he says.

“Yeah, okay,“ Magnus says, confused, not entirely sure what he did wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up that Alec is technically his employee. He has a feeling it’s something Alec feels strongly about -- rules and decorum and _legality_. “Goodnight, I guess,” Magnus says, heading towards the door.

Maybe he’s imagining it, maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but Alec seems regretful when he says, “Goodnight, Magnus,” softly back.

 

\---

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/30c_zpsyfqu5okk.png.html)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this your trigger warning. Please do not read ahead if you're in any way squeamish.

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/37_zpsedkdxhag.jpg.html)

 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/iphone-WOhl_zpsstbbsqhc.png.html)

 

 

 

\---

 

Kevin’s washing the car while Alec checks each security camera in that careful, precise manner he has.

From a lounge chair by the pool, Magnus is flipping through a magazine, Chairman Meow perched on his lap. He’s wearing the most alarmingly tiny shorts Kevin’s ever seen, along with mirrored sunglasses. Kevin might not be able to see Magnus’ eyes, but he can still tell Magnus is carefully tracking Alec’s movements around the property.

Ever since that overly-tall fool arrived, Kevin has watched Magnus bluster at him, then come to depend on him, then stare longingly as Alec continues on, completely oblivious. For a bodyguard, he doesn’t seem to notice much.

Who has Magnus Bane’s undivided attention and doesn’t even care? Kevin shakes his head and wrings out his sponge, soapy gray water sloshing out of the side of the bucket. 

 

\---

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/38b_zpshwekaqfv.png.html)

 

 

\---

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/39_zpssbk7avsl.png.html)

 

 

  
\---

 

 

When Alec gets to Magnus’ bedroom, Magnus is sitting on the bed next to Catarina, clutching a plain black box. It does remind Alec of the gift he got Magnus, which he supposes was the point.

Whoever did this wanted to absolutely _gut_ Magnus.

And it worked.

“They were in my house,” Magnus says, clutching the box, eyeliner smeared, face blotchy. “They were in my bedroom.” Next to him, Catarina’s rubbing his arm and making soothing noises.

He’s an absolute mess and everything in Alec struggles towards him like a compass pointing north, unwavering, without option. It’s so dangerous, how much he wants to go to Magnus.

But the night Magnus went to the poolhouse and Alec had sent him away, he'd tossed and turned in bed for hours after Magnus left. Eventually, he got up and started sorting through the mountains of hate mail, setting aside any letters that seemed particularly ominous. Alec isn’t even sure he wants something with Magnus, isn’t sure they can be anything real, but he knows while Magnus fears for his life and thinks Alec is the only one that can save him, they can’t be anything.

“Help me,” Magnus says when he catches sight of Alec, his voice a low, wounded moan.

“Yeah,” Alec says, taking a stumbling step back. “Just--uh, I need to have a word with Ragnor. Just a minute.”

 

\---

 

As soon as he leaves the room, Alec feels like he can breathe again.

Ragnor grabs him by the arm and says, “He can’t stay here.”

“Agreed. This house is compromised,” Alec acknowledges, mind already racing ahead. “My parents have a cabin. No one goes there anymore. Off the books. We can call the police and have Magnus go to the cabin while we comb through the letters again. I’ve pulled out the worst of them and we can hand them over to the police.”

“We need to flush this person out. He’s going on tour soon. Plus, he can’t hide forever.”

"Is that all you care about?" Alec asks, offended on Magnus' behalf. "Magnus going back on tour and making money?"

"No, but it's what he wants. I know you're new to this sector," Ragnor snaps impatiently, "but _think_. Arenas are much more difficult to secure. Multiple entrances and exits, large crowds, rotating locations."

"All right, that's true," Alec allows, mollified. “So then no one can know Magnus is leaving.”

“Okay, he should probably leave tonight.” Alec suppresses a shudder. “I don’t think he can sleep here, anyway.”

“He can’t go alone,” Ragnor points out.

“Uh, I guess--”

“You’re the best equipped to protect him.”

“I’m not sure,” Alec starts, but Ragnor cuts him off.

“He trusts you. You can protect him. Cat and I will stay here to work with the police. You two just stay off the grid.”

Alec can’t argue with the logic of that, even if he does think that spending time in an isolated cabin with a man he has such tangled feeling about, he might never be able to make sense of them is a supremely bad idea.

He glances back in the room, where Magnus is standing in front of the dresser and trying to fix his eyeliner with shaking hands.

“Yeah, okay,” Alec says. He’s probably had worse ideas before, even if he can’t remember them right now.

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/39b_zpsr6gsjyvx.png.html)

 

 

\---

 

A text from Ragnor to Kevin:

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/39c_zps0w2eq8vo.png.html)


	12. Chapter 12

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/40d_zpsmz97wx9i.png.html)

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/40e_zps8jcubmct.png.html)

 

 Magnus holds the phone in his hand, looking down, finger tracing the words carefully: _There’s nothing wrong with you now_.

 

 

\---

 

The cabin -- well, that is a generous word for the dilapidated mess Magnus is staring at. It was probably a lovely cabin once upon a time, and then like, man discovered fire.

“Is there running water?” Magnus asks, voice flat. If he’s expected to use an outhouse, he would, frankly, prefer death.

Alec grins slightly, and it takes years off his face. He looks young and happy, and Magnus realizes he’s never seen Alec in an environment where Alec felt truly comfortable. Magnus is uncomfortably aware he's fallen in lust with a possible mountain man, and the years flash before his eyes: living as a pioneer, churning butter, making pies from scratch, breathing in the clean, unbefouled air of the countryside. It sounds positively  _awful_.

“There is," Alec answers. "I know it doesn’t look like much, but there’s a little pond out back and a firepit. We can catch our food and then cook it.”

“Surely you jest,” Magnus says coldly.

Alec’s grin deepens. “I do. There’s a grocery store up the street.”

“Ah. Well, thank goodness for small miracles,“ Magnus says, feeling shaken to his very core.

“C’mon. Let’s start unloading your suitcases. I want to get to bed before 4 am.”

 

\---

 

The inside of the cabin is marginally better. After unloading their suitcases, Alec's bags even smaller and somehow sadder next to Magnus' luxurious, monogrammed, and very slightly tacky set, Kevin leaves and Alec walks from room to room, turning on lights. It's all wood and somber colors, which Magnus supposes makes a certain amount of sense. 

"We used to come here when we kids. Before -- well, before. I always had fond memories of this cabin," Alec says, turning the last light on and illuminating the rest of the room.

Magnus wonders what changed, but it doesn't seem polite to ask.

The yellow glow highlights Alec's face flatteringly and gives the room a warm luster, making the cabin look infinitesimally less shabby and more comfortable. Suddenly, the forboding scratches on the door frame look less horrible and more like a place where kids might've marked their heights year after year. He can practically hear the pitter-patter of small, excited feet across the worn floor. 

In the far corner, there's a hulking shape with a sheet over it. "What's that?" Magnus asks. 

"Oh," Alec says, "you might like this?" He pulls the sheet off and a hefty layer of dust flies up into the air before scattering and dissipating.  

"A piano?" Magnus asks, excited, hurrying over to run his fingers across the ivory-white keys. "A Steinway, this is a good one.” He takes in the glossy black wood, the heavy brass foot pedals. It's old but beautiful and surprisingly well-maintained. The piano looks shockingly extravagant in its humble surroundings, possibly much like Magnus himself.

 "My mom bought it because out of all of us, she was determined that one of us would be a great pianist," Alec explains shyly. 

"Do you play?"

 "Not a one of us," Alec says with a small laugh. 

“Of us?" Magnus asks, looking up. "Obviously, I know Izzy."

“We have a brother -- Jace.”

"How did I not know that?"

Alec looks confused. "Why would you?"

It strikes Magnus that he actually doesn't know much about Alec that isn't physical or immediately evident. He's made very little effort to actually get to know Alec, due in part to Alec's naturally reticent nature, but also because Magnus might've been a little selfish. "Where's your brother now?"

"Ah, he’s busy finding himself in Europe. I suspect he’s chasing after a red-headed artist.”

“Tell me about him?" Magnus urges. Alec's voice is taking on a fond tone that he's not sure he's heard Alec use before when talking about anyone but Izzy. Family obviously means a lot to him, and Magnus wonders what it would be like to be regarded like that.

“He reminds me of you in a way," Alec says, looking at Magnus with his gaze that's a little too intense to be comfortable, that sees too much and far too little. Alec's a big picture guy, used to looking at the whole of a puzzle without seeing the individual pieces. "He’s in love with life, but also--kind of sad, sometimes, when he thinks no one’s looking.”

Perhaps he sees more than Magnus gives him credit for.

Magnus clears his throat, mouth suddenly dry. "I’ve never seen him mentioned on your social media."

Alec laughs and the moment's broken. "He won't follow me back on Twitter because I once hacked in and changed his name to ‘dickhead,” Alec explains. “It’s an old joke, but I guess pretty self-explanatory.” He shrugs, eyes still warm and fond. "Ready for me to show you to your room?"

"Lead the way," Magnus says.

 

\---

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/40c_zps764lvgdb.png.html)


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

 

Magnus slips out of bed. Across the hall, Alec’s door is closed. The whole house smells stale, like dust and years of disuse, overlaid by the horrid canned soup they ate as an extremely late dinner.

Magnus makes his way through the living room, rubbing his hand over the back of the plaid couch, the knit blanket carelessly thrown across the back, the wooden planks creaking beneath his feet. Everything feels solid and real in a way nothing else has in a long time.

He opens a window to let the night breeze in.

A dark shape passes behind him and Magnus nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand reaches out to touch his shoulder.

“Ahhhhhhhh!,” he screams in a very manly fashion.

“It’s just me,” Alec says from behind him.

“I knew that,” Magnus says peevishly, clutching his chest and willing his heartbeat to slow down to a thundering gallop.

“I could tell by the scream,” Alec says dryly. “What are you doing up?”

“I don’t sleep well,” Magnus says, pulling his robe closer around himself. It’s the end of summer, the wind bringing colder air and the sharp promise of change. The sun will be up soon. “Never really have.”

“Same here, but you know, more recent, I guess,” Alec says.

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

Alec hesitates for a moment, peering over Magnus’ shoulder into the dark night. The breeze rustles his hair. “A story for another time, maybe.”

“I understand,” Magnus says, touching his arm lightly. And he does. Alec is a guarded person as befits his job, but Magnus has the sneaking suspicion that this particular personality trait far preceded his chosen profession. Alec’s heart is a fortress, but Magnus thinks he would very much like to visit someday. He thinks Alec might even let him. “Feel like watching a movie?”

“Sure,” Alec says, blinking. “Um, we have _Legally Blonde_ and _Caddyshack_.”

“Pardon?” Magnus says.

Alec rubs the back of his neck. “No cable.”

“So we’re stuck with two DVDs?”

“Ah,” Alec says, sounding at least a little apologetic, “VHS, actually.”

Magnus tries to smile in an encouraging way, he truly does, but judging by Alec’s continued mumbled “sorrys,” he fails entirely.

Alec pops the movie in while Magnus settles on the couch, the movie starting with a soft whir and the opening credits. Alec sits down next to him.

In the middle of _Caddyshack_ , Magnus nods off. He’s vaguely aware of Alec pulling a blanket over them, slightly less aware of being slumped down on Alec’s shoulder, face pressed into the soft cotton of his nightshirt, possibly drooling just a teeny bit in a no doubt elegant and fetching way, but he couldn’t possibly miss the way Alec settles down and stretches his legs out, shifts Magnus’ body ever so closer as he gets comfortable and drifts off to sleep himself.

  
\---

 

After making out a list of the essentials for Alec to pick up at the grocery store, Alec warns Magnus that he’s pretty sure a country grocery doesn’t sell papaya, but he’ll check anyway, before he leaves.

Magnus digs out a notebook and sits down at the piano. He hasn’t written a song in years.

And that’s probably his most shameful secret: to get a partial writing credit, he only needs to contribute a word or two to each song. His entire last album was written by a patchwork of writers, furiously working while Magnus stared at a blank notebook with the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he would never write again, that whatever gift he may have once possessed had vanished into the ether.

Magnus' hand hovers above the piano keys for a moment before he sighs and pushes himself back, bench legs scraping across the floor.

He wanders outside, taking deep, steadying breaths.

Sure, Alec told him not to go outside, but what Alec doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/40%202_zpse4f83x7u.jpg.html)

 

 

 

 

An aggrieved text from Alec:

  
[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/40d_zpshwvvpxba.png.html)

 

\---

 

Magnus helps Alec bring in the groceries. It’s fun to watch Alec unfold himself from the compact rental. Izzy had ordered it for them, Magnus watching over her shoulder, both laughing as they rented the smallest car on offer.

“Got to love those Europeans,” Magnus says, grinning and taking a handful of bags.

Alec cracks his neck loudly.

Magnus looks down into one of the bags. “Oh, hey, you got the papayas!” he says happily. “And I thought you said little country grocery stores wouldn’t have them.”

Alec coughs loudly, as he continues to awkwardly dig bags out of the backseat. He looks like King Kong attempting to scale the Empire State Building. “I might have driven a little bit further,” he says.

“How much?”

“Uh, an hour or so. They're out of season, probably going to suck. Why are you making such a big deal about it?” Alec says, passing Magnus and heading towards the cabin, gravel and pine needles crunching beneath his boots.

“No reason,” Magnus murmurs, staring down at the fruit.

  
\---

 

Magnus peels a papaya after dinner, sitting in front of the crackling fire. He takes a bite of the sweet flesh, juice running down his hands.

“You’re making a mess,” Alec grunts, eyes not leaving the TV. They’re watching _Legally Blonde_ again. Unexpectedly, it seems to get funnier each time.

Magnus burrows deeper into the musty cushions, warm and content. “Totally worth it,” he says, slicing off a piece and holding it out for Alec to eat. After hesitating a minute, Alec leans forward and takes the piece of fruit from Magnus’ fingers with his mouth. Magnus lets his thumb linger for a moment against the soft swell of Alec’s full bottom lip before Alec pulls back and chews thoughtfully.

“Good?” Magnus asks, voice a little hoarse.

“Hmmm,” Alec agrees, swallowing. “Still a mess, though.”

“The best things in life always are,” Magnus says.

 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/50_zpsqnrnli2z.png.html)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I'm reordering and combining some chapters. I skimmed the beginning and realized it didn't read very well.

 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/44_zpsygkennab.jpg.html)

 

\---

 

Alec wakes up, staggers into the kitchen, and turns on the coffeemaker, startled to find Magnus already awake and at the piano. Over the years, he’s trained himself to wake up alert and ready, but a few days at the cabin and he’s already slipping back into bad habits.

“Coffee?” Alec offers, the coffeemaker sputtering to life and hissing in the kitchen.

“Black, two sugars,” Magnus murmurs, not looking up from where he’s furiously scribbling in a notebook Alec doesn’t recognize.

“Are you writing?” Alec blurts out without thinking, then wants to slap himself. Magnus has a pen and a notebook; by any definition of the word, he is writing.

But Magnus just grins gently, hair uncombed and messy, face makeup free. He looks soft, like Alec could reach out and touch him if he wanted to. “I’m working on a new song.”

“Right,” Alec says awkwardly. “I’ll go, uh -- coffee.”

Alec goes to the kitchen to make Magnus’ coffee, stirring in two sugars, spoon clinking against the sides of the mug. He takes it back into the living room and sets it on a nearby table, loathe to disturb Magnus. Since he started this job, Alec hasn’t seen Magnus write once. 

He’s dying to ask Magnus what he’s writing about, but it seems kind of rude to ask. If Magnus wanted him to know, he’d tell him. He’s lived his whole life on a need to know basis, told not to question. And Magnus _is_ still his boss, even if that fact is becoming harder to remember by the minute.

“I’m going outside to chop some wood,” he tells Magnus, then grabs his jacket from the coatrack and trudges outside.

 

\---

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/45_zpsbfeonc3g.png.html)

 

Alec puts down his phone for a minute. A few years ago, he would have said no. Two years ago, he might have said yes.

Now, he honestly doesn’t know.

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/46_zps7koqgu8a.png.html)

 

 

  
\---

  
Magnus scans his work, the notations he's made in the margins. He can already tell that it's going to be beautiful. He's missed this, this feeling of pulling the thoughts directly from his head and letting them spill out onto the page. Something angry and hurt that's been knotted up inside him for years untangles, slipping apart, spreading out as if it were never there at all. 

Magnus hums the tune under his breath. This is undeniably a song about love and possibility. Even at his most delusional, there’s no way he can convince himself it’s not about Alec--

\--who is currently outside chopping wood and no doubt sweating deliciously.

Magnus carefully weighs his options. He could stay inside where it’s temperature controlled _or_ do back-breaking manual labor for the slim chance of seeing Alec take his shirt off again.

Magnus slams his notebook shut, hops off the piano bench, and grabs his coat. What does he want to do, write about his life or go out and live it?

Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

 

\---

 

“Everything hurts,” Magnus complains.

“No one made you come out,” Alec says, one arm looped around Magnus' waist, the other under his shoulders as he helps carry-walk Magnus inside. 

“Was that a bisexual joke?” Magnus grumbles.

“What? No?” Alec says, maneuvering Magnus onto the bed, unceremoniously flinging him down onto a truly hideous knitted blanket.

“Be careful! Very precious cargo! Each of my legs is insured for a million dollars.”

Alec pauses untying Magnus' shoelaces. “That can’t be true.”

“It is. Would you be a dear and get my overnight bag? I should have some pain medicine in there left over from dancing injuries.”

Alec gets up and brings the bag over, unzipping it and fishing out a plastic amber-colored bottle. He pops the safety cap off and shakes a couple pills into Magnus' waiting hand. “I'll get you some water.”

Magnus grimaces and swallows both pills dry. “Don't bother. I‘ve had so many injuries in the past, I've learned to take my pills and work through the pain. That‘s part of why Ragnor has my legs insured for such an absurd amount. If I got a permanent injury, we might have to cancel my tour and the insurance would help recoup the losses the tour insurance doesn't cover.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to postpone your tour instead of working through an injury and making it worse? Besides, I think your fans would understand.” Alec pulls Magnus' shoes off and lets them hit the floor with a dull thud. He rounds the bed and sits down next to Magnus' prone body.

“Time is money,” Magnus says, weary. “Besides, part of my appeal is that I’m larger than life. Can’t cancel a concert because I pulled a hamstring.” He pauses. “Besides, I had someone carry me between shows when I was injured.”

“No. Really?" Alec says, laughing. "That’s _sick_."

“It was just the _once_. And I had plantar fasciitis, very painful.” He looks up at Alec and snickers. “Okay, it was absurd. I’ve maybe been a little sheltered this past decade.”

“That’s a real tragic story,” Alec says, barely holding back another laugh.

"Well, I paid dearly for that. Tabloids got wind of it and made it a big story about how I demand to be carried like Cleopatra in her litter when not on a stage. Ragnor practically cried. Catarina actually cried -- laughing. I had to go on a whirlwind press tour and show how manly and tough I am. I even did a horrid fitness contest on GMA. Awful."

"I have no doubt you're tough," Alec says. Like every time he speaks, Alec is brutally honest, a shade too sincere to be comfortable. 

Magnus drops his eyes. “Being famous is weird,” Magnus mutters, painkillers kicking in and making him blissfully drowsy.

“What’s it like?” Alec asks curiously.

“Being famous? It's isolating in a way I never understood before. Everyone wants something from me. I’m never enough -- just me.”

“It must be hard to belong to yourself.”

“I don’t know if we can ever belong to anyone, least of all ourselves. We belong to everyone and nobody at all.” He holds his hand up to the light, the edges blurring and moving in slow motion. These pills are stronger than he remembers. Clean living clearly disagrees with him. “Sometimes, I feel like a raw nerve.”

Alec touches the back of his hand and pushes it down to the bed. “That’s enough for you. I’m going to get you some water and you’re going to bed early.”

The bed bounces a bit when Alec gets up and Magnus listens to the sound of glasses clinking, the tap running, then Alec coming back and pressing a cool glass into his hands and helping him sit up until he finishes the entire drink.

Alec sets the empty glass on the scarred nightstand, where Magnus can see “IL” carved into the side in childish script. Izzy Lightwood. Alec may not have lived here full time, but he grew up here, he loved, he once felt at home here. It seems significant. 

Alec pulls the curtains closed, plunging the room into darkness and Magnus can’t see the initials at all anymore.

His back and shoulders ache and he suddenly feels exhausted. The pain of his body, the pain of songwriting, cracks something open inside of him. 

“Why don’t you want me?” Magnus asks softly, the edges of his voice slurring and bleeding together. “What do I have to do to make you want me?” His voice sounds sad and far away, even to his own ears.

He feels the ghost of Alec’s hand on his cheek, so large and warm and heartbreakingly tender, he could cry. He nearly does, turning his head to burrow further into the ugly blanket. It’s been so long since anyone has touched him without purpose.

“Everybody wants you,” Alec says before withdrawing his hand. “Get some rest.”

Magnus hears the floorboards creak beneath Alec’s feet, and the door close softly behind him.

“But nobody ever stays,” Magnus says to the empty room.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm soooo sorry! let's call this chapter 1/2 because i don't have the time to post a long chapter. the next part should be out tomorrow? i hope?

 

Magnus wakes up to a wretched smell. He has five blissful minutes of forgetfulness before last night all comes crashing back down. Oh God, he practically threw himself at Alec. _Again_.

Magnus could spend the rest of his life in bed and do his best impersonation of a rock, but he might as well go out and face the music, so to say.

Magnus rolls out of bed with a groan and tests his back. Some lingering soreness, but not too bad.

He goes to the bathroom, takes a hot shower to melt away the lingering tension, and then puts some light makeup on. He hasn’t been bothering while up at the cabin, but he needs a little armor.

He finds Alec in the kitchen, bent over a bubbling pot.

“What’re you doing there?”

Alec looks up, startled, eyes wide. “How’re you feeling?” Alec asks.

“Much better,” Magnus says and busies himself grabbing a spoon. It doesn’t take as long as he would have liked.

Alec gives the pot a stir and nods his head in satisfaction. “Uh, I guess we should talk about yesterday.”

Magnus’ heart ratchets up a notch. “I don’t really remember much,” he lies, chancing a glance at Alec.

Alec’s brow is furrowed and he looks concerned.

“Pain pills, you know,” Magnus says. “Did, uh, did something happen?” he asks innocently.

Alec shrugs, still looking troubled. “Nothing worth talking about, I guess.”

“Then maybe you can tell me what you’re making that smells so--” fucking gross, Magnus’ mind supplies “--interesting?”

Alec seems to relax. “Old family recipe. Izzy, Jace, and I used to make it for my mom when she was sad.” Alec stirs the pot again, and Magnus’ stomach gives a responding unpleasant lurch.

He takes the spoon and hesitantly dips it into the murky stew. This is probably how soldiers felt on D-Day, storming the shores of Normandy. Which is to say, terrified.

Alec waits, watching, while Magnus takes a bite. It is--

Calling it wretched would be a kindness. It’s both bitter and sweet, the absolute worst combination. It smells like death and cabbage. Magnus swallows a little painfully. “Wonderful,” he manages.

“Good,” Alec says, face breaking into a relieved grin. “I’m going to get some groceries. Anything you want?”

 _Antacids and a shotgun_ , Magnus thinks. “Nothing for me, thanks.”

“Well, feel free to dig into the stew while I’m out. I know you must be hungry,” Alec says with a shy duck of his head. He is so, so unfairly beautiful. Oh God, Magnus would do downright stupid things for him, including but not limited to willingly eating something that Magnus imagines tastes not unlike soiled cat litter.

“I’ll be sure to,” Magnus says with a pained twist of his lips. “I want to get some songwriting done, so I'll need my energy.”

  
\---

 

Magnus works on his song, but he keeps rewriting the last verse. He finally gives up in the early afternoon and starts reading. His stomach rumbles and Magnus makes sure to carefully ladle some soup into the trash, but doesn't actually eat it. He would prefer slow starvation.

  
[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/43_zpshr84u31e.jpg.html)

 

The problem with the song, Magnus realizes, is that he doesn’t know how this particular one ends.

 

\---

 

 A text from Magnus to Alec:

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/44_zps24q3vemi.png.html)

 

An equally bored text from Alec to Magnus:

  
  
[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/45_zpsf8aaoy6a.png.html)

 

\---

 

Alec comes back with a DVD player and a handful of DVDs with his groceries.

“You didn’t,” Magnus gasps, bounding over the couch excitedly. He never thought he’d be so happy to see a $20 piece of technology. He sets a bunch of bags on the floor, one of which holds a large box of movie butter popcorn, Magnus notes victoriously.

“Lot of Nicholas Cage movies,” Magnus says slowly, going through another bag.

“The selection was pretty limited in town, okay?” Alec says, exasperated. “This place isn’t exactly a nexus of culture.”

“I see that,” Magnus says, not that he’s left the house for anything but a disastrous stint out to the woods and an equally terrible attempt at chopping wood.

“Besides, I’ve never seen any of these,” Alec says. "This one is about some National Treasure, and another one about being Moonstruck, whatever that is.”

“Never change,” Magnus says fondly. “Didn’t you ever watch movies as a kid?”

“My parents didn’t really believe in fun just for fun’s sake.”

“I’m not sure I’d call a Nick Cage movie fun, but we’ll leave it there.”

 

\---

 

Thankfully, Alec doesn’t expect them to eat leftovers for dinner, instead opting for a bagged salad, steaks that Magnus grills, and potatoes, diced and roasted in the oven.

Afterward, they wander back into the living room, Alec sitting on the shabby couch, looking comfortable, the harsh lines of his shoulders sloping down, relaxed. Magnus is pleased to realize that like all extremely tall men, Alec’s default is to hunch slightly. It’s only time and discipline that’s trained that softness out of him.

“You’re very graceful,” Alec says thoughtfully as Magnus crouches down to pop in a DVD. He’s watching Magnus with careful, assessing eyes.

Magnus looks up, feeling caught out and embarrassed for reasons he doesn't examine. “Yes…? Thank you?”

“Guess it’s all that dancing, huh?” Alec says, mouth quirking up like he’s amused at himself. His hair is still damp from the shower he took after dinner, the edges curling in and up, wild and dark. There’s a small hole in the knee of his worn jeans, pale skin peeking through.

“Yes,” Magnus says and swallows. He starts the movie and sits down next to Alec, closer than he ever dared before, holding his breath.

Usually, Alec’s hugging the opposite armrest like it's a life preserver, their relationship is the Titanic, and Alec's the last lady from steerage, but he doesn’t move this time. Just sighs gently and asks, “So, is the _Face/Off_ literal or metaphorical, because I had a big dinner and I feel like I should brace myself.”

 

\---

 

Two bowls of popcorn and many movies later, and Magnus is nodding off to the soundtrack of Cher and Nicholas Cage yelling at each other about marriage in a way that‘s probably meant to be sexy. It’s more disturbing than arousing, though Nick Cage has a pretty good bod. But Magnus isn’t really paying attention, letting the sounds of nasal bickering wash over him.

Alec’s been totally still for at least half of the movie.

He looks over, expecting to see Alec asleep, but Alec’s awake and watching him.

“Hey,” Magnus says. He snuggles down deeper in the blanket, which happens to bring him incrementally closer to Alec. “What are you thinking about?”

“You put on a show for fans, even your friends sometimes. What am I going to meet the real Magnus Bane?”

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised by Alec, still, but Alec always does seem to manage to catch him off-guard. It’s nice to know that people can still surprise him in pleasant ways.

“People are many things, Alexander," Magnus says, thinking carefully. "Doesn’t make any of them less true.”

“So, what is your truth?”

“I’m a fraud,” Magnus says, keeping his voice even.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Alec protests.

“It is. I didn’t write any of my last album, but I got all the credit.”

"For what it’s worth, I could tell.”

“I thought you didn’t like my music?” Magnus says.

Alec ducks his head, color blossoming across his cheeks. “I changed my mind.”

“It was watching my music videos, wasn’t it?”

Alec looks up then, eyes framed by long dark lashes. “I may have reevaluated my opinion.”

“Was it the mesh bodysuit?” Magnus asks knowingly.

Alec laughs gently. “Your videos have a certain appeal.”

The moment is soft, fragile, a small space just for them that’s removed from the worries and stress of the world. It can’t possibly last -- these things never do -- but Magnus can enjoy it all the same.

“Now, I think you know every ugly truth about me,” Magnus says.

“There’s nothing ugly about you,” Alec says. “I think it’s hard to be a creator and that’s not a job I envy.”

Magnus swallows. He doesn’t know how to respond to such naked kindness.

“So, you’ve got your question. Do I get one?“ At Alec’s nod, Magnus says, “Have you always been like this?”

“What do you mean?”

“So closed off.” Magnus reaches out, hesitantly, then bolder when Alec doesn’t shy away. He brushes back Alec’s hair from his face, a face he might know better than his own at this point, he’s studied it so carefully. “I wish you could open up to me.”

“I don’t think I know how anymore,” Alec says. “I think when you’ve been alone too long, you forget how. It‘s easy to believe it's because of the job, but after a while, you just get used to being alone. Relationships are too messy, too risky. Besides, in my profession, it‘s not really forbidden, just kind of looked down on?”

“That’s tragic.”

“That’s life,” Alec says simply.

“There’s nothing wrong with needing affection. This myth that men don’t need love is ridiculous. We’re only human, too.”

He thought he’d needed Alec’s strength, but Magnus has realized, he has plenty of his own. Perhaps, Alec could use a little bit of his. Feeling bold, he leans forward and kisses Alec. Alec makes a soft, pained noise beneath him, eyes fluttering closed.

“Magnus,” Alec says, pulling back, voice low, urgent. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. You’re technically my boss.”

“Then you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me,” Alec says, laughing softly. “Only Ragnor can.”

“So, I guess that means I’m not your boss,” Magnus says. “What happens here stays here.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very good deal for you,” Alec says soberly.

“This doesn’t have to be serious,” Magnus says, easy, because he’s a goddamn liar. “So, let’s just see where the night takes us.”

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ch 2/2 -- porn. with feelings! but feel free to skip if you're not a smut fan. don't ask me who's taking the pics. timer? who knows. it's the only way i could think to make a social media au work.

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/51_zps8j0vj1wk.png.html)

 

 

 

Magnus can see the minute Alec’s resolves breaks. It’s like a tide pulling back from the shore, a river running backward. Alec licks his lips. “Do we need to talk about this?”

“Haven’t we talked enough already?”

“Yeah,” Alec says, surging forward and kissing Magnus, hands fisted in his plush velvet robe, twisting the material between his fingers. He pushes it down off Magnus’ shoulders, letting it hit the ground, crumpled and forgotten.

Alec kisses better than Magnus had imagined, and he’s spent countless hours thinking about it: artless and straightforward and heartbreakingly sincere. His attention’s divided between removing Alec’s clothes and the slick slide of Alec’s lips against his as they stumbled towards the bedroom.

He’s never been in Alec’s room and he can’t help the small zip of excitement that shoots up his spine. Magnus glances around, notes the plain walls, the basketball shoved into the far corner, an old poster tacked up on the wall with a torn edge. It’s hard to imagine a teenaged Alec lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and dreaming of---what? Guarding other people with his own body as a human shield? Once again, Magnus’ mind stutters and stops against the hard limits of his knowledge and his desire to know more.

 _Let me in_ , Magnus thinks, thumb pressed into the corner of Alec's mouth. Alec ducks his head to press his lips against the pad of his thumb.

So, he meets Alec more than halfway, grabbing Alec’s face and pulling him into another kiss, soft, opening his mouth as Alec’s tongue dips in, tasting him. Magnus pulls himself open, stripping himself down while Alec’s hands run down his chest and come to rest on his hips.

Magnus guides them both back until his legs hit the edge of the bed, Alec following him down and easing his fall. “Graceful,” Magnus says, laughing.

“Bodyguard,” Alec points out and kisses his way down Magnus’s neck to his chest, giving his nipple a teasing light bite. He looks up at Magnus through wild, mussed hair, eyes hooded, lips plump and swollen, and it’s such a pretty picture it makes Magnus’ breath hitch.

“You sure about this?” Alec asks one last time.

Magnus has never been so sure of anything in his life. He clears his throat. “No expectations,” he promises again, even though he knows it’s a mistake even as he’s saying it. Sometimes people make poor decisions, they ride that train right off a cliff, do things that they know will hurt them tomorrow just for the pleasure of the moment.

Humans are stupid and fickle and self-serving and generous and so very lovely, Magnus thinks, running his hands over Alec’s neck, down to this wide shoulders, pressing Magnus’ knees apart. It’s the tragedy and the beauty of life, and this part is so very beautiful.

Alec grabs Magnus’ dick and gives it a few hesitant strokes before pressing a kiss to the crown, then lowering his mouth down. Magnus sucks in a sharp breath as warm heat slowly envelopes his cock, Alec’s head bobbing as he nearly pulls off, running his tongue around the head, then down the sensitive underside of his dick, face tilted up, eyes meeting Magnus’ across the long expanse of his own body, eyes dark and pupils blown, one hand lazily fisting his own cock.

Magnus groans and hauls him up by his shoulders to pull him up, mouth crashing against Alec’s, kissing sloppily, helplessly, tasting faint traces of himself on Alec’s tongue.

“I’ve probably got some lube in my room,” Magnus says, pulling away a little regretfully. “Maybe a condom? I keep it in my wallet.” He holds up a hand to cut off Alec’s no doubt bitchy reply. “Fuck, I know it‘s a shitty place to keep it. Let me live.”

“I was just going to say I’ve got some in my bag,” Alec says mildly.

Magnus feels his eyebrows shoot up.

Alec looks embarrassed. “Fucking Izzy,” he says. “She warned me this would happen. Said that at the very least, I should be safe.”

“A wise woman.”

“Christ, don’t tell her that,” Alec mumbles, rolling over and pulling a condom and a bottle of lube out of his bag. He snaps the bottle open and pours a generous amount on his fingers. Magnus hitches his legs further apart but catches his breath when Alec wordlessly reaches behind himself.

“Let me,” Magnus says, voice husky, nearly unrecognizable. Alec looks surprised and Magnus’ chest burns. Who has Alec been having sex with?

He lays Alec back, pushes his knees up and apart, fingers him open slowly until he can feel Alec twitching and loose around him muttering, “Fuck, do it already,” his cock red and leaking against his stomach.

Magnus adds one more finger and leans down to kiss Alec’s stomach as he crooks his fingers and brushes against Alec’s prostate just to watch the way Alec’s back arches up off the bed, eyes closed and head jerking side to side.

The window’s open and Magnus can taste the sharp metallic taste of ozone right before a storm.

It’s tempting to make Alec come fucking himself down on Magnus’ fingers, but he wants so much. Alec lets out a soft, disappointed groan as Magnus pulls his fingers out and grabs a condom, rolling it down on himself. He grabs the unused pillow and shoves it under Alec‘s ass. “Ready?” he asks, to which Alec nods, biting down on his lip, swollen flesh pale against the sharp white of his teeth.

Magnus replaces his fingers with his cock, pressing in slowly, watching Alec’s eyes flutter closed and the sharp intake of his own breath as he’s enveloped in impossibly tight heat. He gives Alec a moment to adjust, then leans over Alec’s body, caging him in with his arms. He begins thrusting slowly, languid, without real intent, as he feels the heat grow in his belly, his heart beating up in his throat in his throat, his eyes greedily raking over Alec’s pale body, taking in every detail. If this is the only time he gets to have this, he wants to remember everything.

“Faster,” Alec says with a tight, pained voice, one leg coming up to rest lightly against Magnus’ back and urge him on. Magnus loops his arm around beneath Alec’s leg and presses it up, fucks into Alec hard and deep. He could lose himself like this. He’s already lost.

“Hey, hey,” Alec says, pawing at his shoulder. Magnus stops and Alec pushes him back onto the bed. Magnus lays flat, feet against the plain wooden headboard, and Alec climbs on top of him, hissing through his front teeth as he slowly lowers himself onto Magnus’ cock.

Magnus’ pulse slows down to a syrup-crawl, world narrowing down to Alec above him, around him, while he watches Alec with wide, wondering eyes, legs trembling beneath Alec’s sweaty palms.

He always does this, falls too hard and too fast.

He feels moisture at the corner of his eyes, gather and slide down his cheek. Alec leans down, chest brushing against his.

“I’m so stupid. I’m so fucking stupid,” Magnus says, voice thick, touching Alec’s cheek, his sharp stubbled jaw, the other scratching through Alec’s sweat-damp hair, wild and soft, the strands slipping between his fingers.

Alec’s eyes open and even in the darkness, Magnus is close enough to pick out the flecks of amber and green in them, the bright swirls of color, an entire galaxy he could lose himself in. He’s so close that all he can see is Alec, Alec, Alec. Magnus never stood a goddamn chance.

Alec moves above him, fucking himself down on Magnus slowly. He pauses to kiss Magnus’ damp cheek.

“I’ve wanted you so fucking much,” Alec says raggedly, sucking in great lungfuls of air, “from the moment I first met you.”

It’s so pathetic, just so fucking sad that that’s what it takes. Magnus feels the intense pressure build, pulling tight like a rubber band the second before it snaps, and then he’s coming so hard it almost hurts, flying so fucking high for a second that he feels like he’ll never come down.

Above him, Alec’s losing his rhythm and just shoving himself down wildly on Magnus‘ cock, mouth open and panting wetly against Magnus’ neck until he comes a few minutes later with a soft cry, ass clenching tight and saying, “Magnus, Magnus,” over and over again, like he can’t get enough of him. Like he loves him.

Then Alec is pulling off, throwing the condom away and slides into bed behind him, hand cupped around the back of Magnus’ neck and pulling him in for a sweet kiss and all Magnus can do is return it helplessly back. He’s such a fool. He doesn’t do no-strings-attached. They agreed to something casual and Magnus can’t stop his mind wandering, from planning out their golden anniversary, years of fucking and waking up together, fucking some more and eating breakfast together, and being so gross and sappy and in love.

Alec breaks the kiss, settling in behind Magnus, arm looped casually around his waist.

He doesn’t think Alec heard him earlier until Alec leans over and murmurs, “I don’t think you’re stupid, I think you’re very brave,” and drops another tender kiss onto his neck.

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/52_zpsle0kjwej.png.html)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don’t linger on what might've been.
> 
>  

 

  
Alec wonders if he did something wrong.

Asleep, Magnus looks untroubled, not the fake brightness he uses most of the time but something startlingly real and unfamiliar. His hand hovers over Magnus’ hair. He’s tempted to touch, but he holds himself back.

The curtains, plain white, blow in the slight breeze, skimming the floor. Stupid to sleep with the windows open, but he forgot to close them last night. He was a little busy.

It’s started to rain lightly, the pitter patter of fat droplets hitting the roof. Outside, the sky looks silver-gray and hazy, like staring at a  painting up close, the world a dizzying whorl of inescapable smears, thick swatches of gray and navy, nothing as clearly defined as he thought.

He looks back down at Magnus.

Taking a bullet for someone is easy, but falling in love requires so much more courage,

 

  
\---

  
Magnus shifts, gradually clawing his way toward consciousness. When he wakes up, he’s disoriented, unfamiliar with his surroundings until he remembers last night, his neck and face hot, remembering the sex, the confessions in the dark. It is one thing to lay yourself bare in the heat of the moment, but another in the bright light of -- he grabs his phone off the nightstand and checks the time -- 3 am?

He looks over, startled to find Alec awake and sitting up, a muscle twitching in his jaw and eyes hard, illuminated by Magnus‘ phone. There‘s nothing of the softness from last night, and Magnus suppresses a sigh.

“There’s someone in the cabin,” Alec whispers without meeting his eyes. “Stay here and get dressed as quietly as you can.” Alec’s getting out of bed and pulling on a pair of discarded jeans. “Lock the door after I leave,” he says, and Magnus shudders when he sees the dull metallic gleam in the faint light. It’s not that he hasn’t seen Alec with a gun or even admired the way the tight straps from his holster hug his lovely, wide shoulders, but it’s never felt real until this moment, driven home by the sharp metallic double-click of a gun being cocked: Alec uses a weapon that can kill people. He could be killed.

“I’m going with you,” Magnus whispers back furiously.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Alec says.

“I’m not helpless.”

“No one said you were,” Alec explains impatiently. “Look, I’m trained for this. This is what you pay me to do. I can’t keep an eye on you and an intruder. It’s more dangerous for both of us. Stay here, call the police.”

He knows it's just Alec being damnably practical, but it hits him like a ton of bricks. 

_This is what you pay me to do._

“Okay,” Magnus says, trying to keep his voice steady. He knows Alec’s right, but still--

It physically hurts him to watch Alec walk through the door alone.

 

\---

 

He waits for twenty agonizing minutes, nearly racing outside multiple times. The only thought holding him back is that he could distract Alec at the wrong minute and get him hurt. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, unlocking the door, when there's a soft knock on the other side.

“The cops are here,” Alec says through the door.

Magnus yanks the door open and he sees Alec with a small cut above his eyebrow, dripping blood into his left eye. “You’re hurt.”

“Turns out, the bastard didn’t feel like being arrested," Alec says wryly and wipes the cut, distracted. 

“Who was it?” Magnus asks, feeling sick. It’s someone he knows, he can feel it.

“I don’t know him. No one I recognized. He doesn’t work for you,” Alec says, and Magnus lets out a harsh breath. He didn’t know how much he was bracing himself for hurt until the moment had passed.

“Just a random fan?” Magnus asks, disbelieving.

Alec throws open the door. “Come see for yourself.”

Still, for all that Alec assured Magnus he didn’t know the assailant, Magnus is still expecting to recognize him and feels flummoxed when the face in the flashing blue and red lights is unfamiliar. Sandy hair, sharp cheekbones. He would be classically handsome if he didn’t have a vaguely amused, calculating expression on his face.

That's the bastard that killed his cat, Chairman Meow, at times, the only friend he had. Magnus' nails bite into his palm as he struggles to choke back thick, black waves of rage.

“The police will need a statement,” Alec says, distracting him.

“Of course,” Magnus says and asks the question that’s been haunting him, keeping him up into the early hours, “Why did he do this? Why me?”

“The police will find out,” Alec says, but his mouth looks tense, unconvinced.

“So, I guess this means our little vacation is over?”

“Guess so,” Alec says finally. “I’ll call Ragnor.”

 

  
\---

 

[](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/iphone-9gNl_zps843lgii6.png.html).

 

 ---

 

 

Kevin helps them take their luggage out to the car. “Are you okay?” he asks, worriedly, grabbing Magnus’ arm.

“Fine, yes,” Magnus says, distracted. Kevin lets his hand drop, and Magnus watches his departing back for a moment. He really is a sweet kid, but Magnus’ mind is already wandering, taking in the empty cabin -- the piano covered again, the blanket folded neatly and draped over the arm of the couch. In the absence of something warmer, substantial, the magic is gone and it looks like what it is: just a dusty old summer cabin. Nothing special.

Magnus sighs and picks up a suitcase.

In the car, Alec asks, “Are you okay?” The cut above his eye's opened back up and Magnus pulls a handkerchief out of his overnight bag and presses it to cut, one hand folded under Alec's chin to hold him steady.

“Did I have this coming?” Magnus asks instead of answering. Alec always asks questions he doesn't have answers to. "It's this my fault? Did I cause this by being -- a bad person?"

Alec is so close, Magnus can feel his breath when he answers. He says, “No one deserves this. I think that we’re not really good or bad people, we’re just whatever we’re doing at the moment." He looks up at Magnus' hand and says, "I think the bleeding's stopped."

Magnus pulls the handkerchief back. He's right; it's stopped, but it'll leave a scar.

Alec slides back, sitting as far away from Magnus as he can get and still be in the same car without clinging to the bumper. Magnus turns his head away and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Magnus?”

“Yeah?”

Alec reaches over and touches the back of Magnus' hands, twisted together in his lap, handkerchief crumpled up on the seat between them. “I think you do good more often than bad. And that makes you a very good person, the best I know.”

When Magnus looks over, Alec is still watching him. He never wavered or looked away. They stay that way in the silence for the rest of the drive.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The line about good or bad people is shamelessly stolen from somewhere. I don't remember where.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No regrets (well, maybe a few)

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/48_zpsuljayzzs.jpg.html)

 

 

  
His house feels empty when he sets his suitcase on the floor, the thud echoing in the cavernous space.

It’s like arriving on the shores of a country after years of being away, familiar and yet foreign, and he can't help but feel slightly out of sync with his old life. He’s been gone for such a short time, but he’s changed too much to feel at home here anymore, if he ever truly did.

“Ragnor should already be in his office. I’m going to brief him on what happened.”

“You could stay here at the main house,” Magnus offers.

“I should probably go back to my place,” Alec says, shifting from foot to foot.

“Yeah, sure. I understand,” Magnus says, though he doesn’t sound like it. He pats his life-sized golden lion statue on the head. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

 

\---

 

Alec leaves Magnus to unpack, drops his bags off at the pool house. He’s not even sure how much longer he’s going to be employed. Ragnor had made some noises about taking him on tour but had yet to offer a long-term contract.

He should go on tour. What he didn’t tell Magnus was the guy who broke in was a professional and Alec has the sick feeling this isn’t over yet. Magnus still _needs_ him.

Ragnor is waiting in his office, looking pensive. His shoes are highly polished, a pocket square tucked neatly into his suit; he looks nearly impeccable and yet, his shirt is mis-buttoned, there are dark smudges beneath his eyes. “I heard you caught the guy. Well done.”

“Sure,” Alec says, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him, “if by caught him, you mean I stopped his fist with my face, then yeah, I sure did.”

Ragnor snorts. “Doesn’t matter how it happened, just that he’s behind bars. I’ll be sure to make a few phone calls, see if we can’t make some serious charges stick.”

By general rule, cops do not care for bodyguards, see them as being privileged assholes that make four times the salary at half of the danger, and they’re not totally wrong. But Alec still has a buddy that works out of the 33rd and he makes a note to give him a call, see if he can get an audio of the interrogation. He needs to see this through.

“Now that everything’s safe, Magnus will be kicking off his tour soon. I’ll email you the dates when they’re finalized.” Alec opens his mouth to protest when Ragnor says, “Oh, speaking of.” He pulls something out of his desk drawer and pushes it across the wood, a thick sheaf of papers, neatly paper clipped together. “Your contract. You’ve done very well. I’ll expect you’ll want your lawyer to look over them.”

Ragnor leans back in his chair, smiling slightly. Alec is startled to find that without the pinched, worried expression on his face, he’s kind of handsome. It reminds Alec that however close he feels to the staff here, he doesn‘t really know them. Not any of them. Not even Magnus.

Ragnor continues, “I think the terms are quite generous.”

Alec wonders if Ragnor would be as pleased with his performance if he knew less than 48 hours ago, Alec had been tangled up with Magnus in bed, sucking dark bruises on his collarbone.

Alec flips to the last page and sucks in a sharp breath. Yeah, he probably wouldn’t be so generous.

“Okay,” Alec says, taking the stack and rolling it up. “I’ll have an answer for you in a day or two.” He stands and shakes Ragnor’s hand before leaving. Izzy always looks over his contracts and it’s as good of an excuse to see her as any.

 

  
\---

 

  
The next morning, Alec does his perimeter checks and heads down to the police station. Magnus doesn't have anything important other than a phone radio interview. Even Magnus should be able to stay out of trouble for a few hours. 

At the precinct, he asks for Davidson at the desk, a buddy from the old days when they were stationed at the U.S. Embassy in Morrocco together. They’d gotten drunk on an embarrassing amount of Casablanca Beer and struck up the kind of friendship cemented by young men doing dumb shit and miraculously surviving.

It hasn’t been that long, but when he catches sight of his friend, he’s surprised. Davidson looks--tired, worn around the edges, but happy. He looks like someone who knows what he wants out of life, even if all his wants are kind of sucky. “You missed all the fun, Lightwood,” Davidson says, coming up and clapping Alec on the back.

“Didn’t think your Lt would be cool with me watching a live interrogation,“ Alec says. The truth is, he wanted to stop for coffee and was running late. Being with Magnus has made him soft.

“Yeah, the perp confessed to wanting to shake Bane up. Says he was hired by a Camille Belcourt? An old flame of Bane’s?”

Alec closes his eyes. Of fucking course, Magnus would have the most wretched ex on the planet and Alec’s had a couple of doozies, including someone he was guarding that dumped him and terminated his contract via telegram while he was discussing ring shopping with Izzy. That had fucked Alec up for a few turns. He’s no genius, but it might be why he has trust and self-image issues.

Alec takes a sip of coffee, the fancy shit Magnus prefers.

It makes sense, he guesses. Scare Magnus into a joint tour, raise her ticket sales, ride his fame coattail some more and make him emotionally and physically dependent on her. Jesus, women always were his blindspot. For some reason, he never thought women could be as cutthroat and ruthless as men, despite the fact that his sister and mother are some of the toughest, meanest people he knows. Izzy, Ragnor - hell, everyone -- had warned him to watch out for her and he _still_ didn’t see Camille coming.

He’s been blinded by Magnus, Alec thinks. Tangled up in his feelings along with those sheets, unable to see the forest for the trees. And at the end of the day, what does he have to offer Magnus? No more than his ex, honestly. Magnus has been used in some way by everyone that’s ever known him, whether on purpose or not, and Alec won’t be another person that does that to him.

He can be better to Magnus; he can be better _for_ Magnus.

"Can I get a copy of those tapes?" he asks.

"Dunno, but I can watch them and let you know the specifics later," Davidson says. 

"Good enough."

Alec sighs and heads home.

 

\---

 

On his ride back, he has Kevin turn on the radio to Magnus’ interview. The interviewer is running down his standard fare of questions when he asks if Magnus is seeing anyone.

Over the line, Magnus hesitates and then says, “No one special.”

“Turn the radio off,” Alec says abruptly.

“Sorry, man,” Kevin says, looking apologetic. “He does this -- he gets kind of crazy about people, then drops them when someone new and shiny comes along.”

“It’s no big deal,” Alec says, staring out the window and watching the city fly by.

 

\---

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/1_zps4btpwn59.png.html)

 

Alec huffs, trying not to laugh. He deeply regrets telling her about what happened at the cabin. She’d come over last night to make a copy of the contract for him and look it over, but they mostly opened a bottle of wine and drank too much, then opened another, just to be sure to meet their quota of stupid for the month.

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/2_zpsinjlm8ns.png.html)

 

 

He can practically hear the affection in her tone, feel the way she’d ruffle his hair while crooning insults in his ear. Little sisters are great.

Alec pulls the contract out of his kitchen drawer, peering down at it for the thousandth time as if the words had magically changed. Made the length shorter, something, _anything_.

Whatever tentative thing he and Magnus might have had will stop completely if Alec goes on tour with him. He remembers the terrified way Magnus clutched at his arm on stage, the expression on his face in his bedroom, tissue paper strewn over the floor.

Alec may not be _special_ , may not be able to make Magnus happy, but he can keep him safe. By fucking god, he can at least do that for him.

He leans down and signs.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re what I’ve been searching for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the warnings.

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/56_zps3rjks0yf.png.html)

 

 

  
Alec’s been to plenty of loud events before, but this is unreal.

The sheer scale of it, the energy, the floor pulsating beneath his feet in time with the music. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” Catarina yells.

“No, not really,” Alec admits, thinking about boring State Dinners. The most exciting thing he can recall happening is the time a Head of state choked on a fish bone. This is something new. Next to him, a group of teenage girls pass, giggling and talking about meeting Magnus after the show.

Magnus had managed to swing all his staff backstage passes, which Alec had personally gone through and approved. Alec looks around at the strobing lights, the crowd. It's hard for him to wrap his head around it: all of this is for Magnus. He’s a superstar. Knowing something intellectually and being confronted with the tangible evidence of it are two completely different things. In what universe had Alec ever thought he’d be good enough for Magnus?

  
“I’m going backstage, you need anything?” Alec asks Catarina, but she’s grinning and watching staff setting up the equipment for the opening act. "Magnus puts on a hell of a show, it's going to blow your mind."

"I'm sure it's impressive." Alec leaves her and heads towards the back, nodding at security.

He grins when one grabs his arm and stops him. “Pass?”

Alec fishes in his pocket and pulls the laminated card out, flashing it at the guard with a satisfied nod. All the security upgrades are paying off.

Magnus is in his dressing room getting ready when Alec knocks before opening the door. He’s standing in front the mirror, makeup and pants on but no shirt.

“Ah," Alec says, sucking in a sharp breath. "I’ll come back when you’re dressed.”

Magnus looks down at his bare chest, amused. “I already am,” he says in a light, teasing voice. Alec scans his face, but he’s impassive. For the first time since he’s known him, he has no idea what Magnus is thinking. It’s mostly a relief, but it also leaves something feeling hollow and achy in his chest.

Things between them have settled. They haven’t seen much of each other recently, both busy preparing for this massive tour, but Alec thinks the work has been good for them both. If they can get past the weirdness, they might one day be able to move towards something like friendship.

It hurts a little, the idea of only being friends with Magnus, but so much already does. And this the best kind of hurt. Alec would rather have Magnus in his life -- whole, healthy and happy -- than not at all. Life is full of these kinds of small compromises.

“Concert’s a go,“ Alec says. “We’ve done all the safety checks.”

“What would I do without you?” Magnus asks with a small grateful smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes yet, but in time, it will.

Alec turns to leave, but at the last minute, thinks better of it. “Hey, break a leg. Isn’t that what they say?”

“That’s what they say,” Magnus says.

 

  
\---

 

  
Magnus is due to take the stage in a few minutes, the lights have gone dum and the crowd’s excitement has reached a fever-pitch, building until it’s a live, tangible thing.

From the side of the stage, Alec’s eyes scan the crowd as his phone rings in his pocket, and he pulls it out, glancing down at the name. Davidson. He wasn’t sure his buddy was going to get back to him. What an inconvenient time; he’d mostly put the incident out of his mind.

Alec answers the phone, telling him to hold on as he winds his way down the hall, through the backside emergency exit, flashing his pass at the security guard.

The cold air hits him like a slap to the face. He hadn’t realized how warm the building had gotten, standing surrounded on all side by staff and fans.

“Just got off work and wanted to get back to you before I forgot again.”

“Thanks,” Alec says dryly, anxious to go back inside. Magnus is probably already onstage.

“Your boy confessed to sending some of the letters and breaking in.”

“Yeah, I knew all that,” Alec says, a touch impatient. He glances down at his watch, which Magnus makes fun of him for wearing. He says only old men and children wear watches; Alec has doubts about the children.

“Says he didn’t do anything to the cat. Sent the death threats, but not those sick love letters.”

Alec’s pulse speeds up. He could be lying, he tells himself, but it doesn’t feel true. Everything that’s been bugging him since they caught the intruder in the cabin comes rushing back. He was clearly a professional, yes, but how in the hell did he know to replicate the gift Alec got for Magnus? Why would he confess to letters, stalking, breaking and entering, and not the cat?

It wasn’t him. There's someone else. 

Alec races back inside, past the security, elbowing his way through the crowd, ignoring the indignant shouts following him.

Magnus is taking the stage, smiling broadly, face almost unrecognizable through the heavy makeup, the spiky coat, the bare chest. He doesn’t look anything like the Magnus Alec knows, but still, Alec would take him. He would take any version of Magnus he could get.

From the front row, inadvisably close to the stage because Alec was overruled by the venue, Alec sees Kevin. He’s relieved for a moment to have another set of eyes on the crowd until he wonders why Kevin is even here -- he should be at the side with the rest of the staff, not front and center, then he sees the glint of metal in his hand. He would have bypassed security with the pass that Magnus gave him, the pass that Alec vetted. Alec failed Magnus. They all did.

Everything slows down, body numb, heartbeat thundering in his ears. He looks at Magnus, only three feet away, who hasn’t noticed him yet. He runs towards him and Magnus turns and looks his way. Their eyes meet and for a brief moment suspended in time, everything else falls away and it’s just the two of them. Magnus smiles at him, soft, pleasantly surprised, and Alec grins back reflexively, unable to stop himself in the face of a happy Magnus.

It’s been a while since Magnus has looked so uncomplicatedly happy.

 _Oh, it’s you_ , Alec thinks stupidly. _You’re what I’ve been searching for._

Even over the roaring crowd, the beating of his own heart, he hears it: a sinister double-click, and Alec gathers up every last ounce of strength he has and throws himself forward, pushing Magnus out of the way.

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/bang_zpsuamxukny.png.html)

He feels the impact in his teeth, feels them snapping together so hard he sees stars as his chest explodes in unimaginable pain, sharp, all of his breath squeezed out his lungs. He’s falling, and security is tackling Kevin and wresting the gun out of his hands. The crowd is still screaming, but it’s different now, high shrieks of terror and panic.

Someone is holding him in their arms; soft lips, wet with tears, are brushing against his ear and begging, “Christ, _please_ , stay with me, Alexander. Don’t leave--"

And then--

And then--

And then--

And then there’s nothing at all.

 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/57_zpsh4f7bzna.jpg.html)

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/58_zpsxujmsim7.jpg.html)

 


	20. Chapter 20

 

 

Magnus arrives at the hospital shortly after the ambulance, pushing aside the EMT’s annoying questions and Ragnor's distressed mother hen routine

He barrels through the swarm of reporters, shielding his eyes against the glare of a dozen bulbs going off in his face. He doesn’t realize he’s holding in tight, panicked breaths until he reaches the lobby of the hospital where Izzy meets him.

Her eyes widen. “I--I didn’t know it was that bad,” she says, eyes raking over his blood-stained jacket, the gruesome smears against his chest. He didn’t even think to put on a shirt or wash up, propelled by a singular need to _get the fuck out of there_.

“They’ve already taken him to surgery,” she says. “Mom and dad are flying in, but they can’t get a plane here until the morning. I can get a hold of Jace.” She holds a hand up to her mouth. “Magnus if Alec--”

“Izzy,” Magnus says.

“I’m here alone,” she finishes, and through her careful makeup, her sky-high heels, he’s reminded that she’s very, very young.

“You’re not alone, I’m here,” Magnus says.

Izzy sniffs and presses her hands beneath her eyes. “I’m going to go get some coffee. You want some?”

“Black, two sugars.”

“That’s repulsive,” she says with a watery laugh.

“That’s what your brother says,” Magnus says unthinkingly, and immediately wants to take it back when her face falls again.

“Right,” Izzy says, “coffee.”

He can practically see her pulling herself together, building up walls, and marvels at it. There’s something in the Lightwood genes that seems to enable - no, _demand_ \- utter strength in unbearable circumstances. Maybe it's their parents, maybe it’s written in their blood, but Magnus thinks being able to occasionally be weak would have been a far kinder lesson.

Now that he knows what he’s looking for, he’s shocked he never noticed before.

After all, he’s seen Alec do it a thousand times.

 

  
\---

 

She comes back and hands him a Styrofoam cup full of noxious black liquid. When he reaches out to take it, he notices his fingernails are dirty around the edges. His hands start shaking and some of the coffee sloshes out, and Magnus swears under his breath as it lands on his knee.

Izzy takes the cup back from him and sets it on the table. She reaches into her purse and grabs a packet of makeup wipes, pulling out one.

Gently, she takes his hands in hers and starts wiping them clean.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think I can,” Magnus chokes out.

“Okay,” she says, and tosses the stained wipe into the wastebasket. Next, she cleans his face, his neck, holding his jaw carefully and tilting his face up.

When she’s done, he feels steadier. “Thank you,” he says, sitting back in his chair. She doesn’t answer but hands him his coffee.

He takes a sip, already lukewarm and unimaginably shitty, the sounds of people being paged overhead, the antiseptic air, the faint whir of machinery, life coming and going in all directions.

When he’s drained his cup, he sets it down and next to him, Izzy holds out a hand, and Magnus gratefully takes it.

They sit in silence, side by side, fingers entwined, as they wait.

 

  
\---

 

  
The surgeon comes out, calling for Izzy.

Izzy's fallen asleep, head nestled against his shoulder, and Magnus gently nudges her awake. She looks up, eyes still bleary and he has the unenviable opportunity of watching realization slowly dawn on her, muzziness giving way to devastation.

“For a moment, I forgot,” she says quietly.

Izzy stands and walks over to the surgeon, talks to him for a few minutes and Magnus can tell by the way her body sags in relief, it’s good news. He lets out a long, hard breath.

She comes back over to Magnus and says, “He’s stable. He’ll be okay. He’s awake, but he’s pretty out of it right now.”

“I want to be there,” Magnus says immediately. He needs to see Alec with his own two eyes, needs to be able to touch him and feel the warmth of his skin, to wash away the horror of the night, the memories of Alec’s too-pale face, his hand clasped in Magnus’, slippery with blood. Alec was only at the stupid concert to protect Magnus.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s family only.”

“Right,” Magnus says, swallowing. “Then I’ll just--wait here. Maybe in a few hours--”

“Magnus. I know what’s going on between you guys, but no one else does. Alec’s a pretty private guy. He once got mad at me for posting pictures of him on Twitter. You guys aren’t official. He’s just-- he’s your bodyguard and there are reporters everywhere--” she trails off, looking miserable.

“Right. He’s just an employee,” Magnus says bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

But Magnus isn’t listening, already turning to leave, Izzy’s cries of “Magnus, wait!” echoing in his ears.

  
\---

 

He gets an Uber, mostly ignores the rapid-fire questions lobbed his way by his over-excited driver.

Once he gets home, he grabs a shower, washing himself mechanically, body and mind numb. Experience has taught him that it’ll be worse in the morning, so he’s thankful for the small reprieve now.

When he comes out, despite the late hour, Catarina is sitting on his bed.

“What are you doing here?” he asks tiredly.

“Jesus, I don’t know,” Catarina says. “It’s been such a dull, uneventful night.”

“Right,” Magnus acknowledges. “Right, well, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Catarina says and reaches up and pulls him close. He sits down next to her on the bed, and she wraps her arms around him. “I’m not leaving,” she says stubbornly.

“Well, I’m not paying you overtime,” he says, closing his eyes, and sinking into the warmth of her embrace. He wonders if this is what having a family is like.

Catarina barks out a laugh. “You think I stay with you for the money, you cheap asshole? I could make twice as much polishing Mariah Carey’s diamond bustiers.”

“What a life,” he says, feeling the tension leech from his bones, but without it, he’s left hollow, scooped out and empty.

“You know,” Catarina says, “strength isn’t about doing it on your own. It’s about being strong enough to ask for help when you need it.”

It’s like she’s given him permission he didn’t know he needed. He feels the last of his defenses stripped away, and something inside him crumbles and falls apart, trauma after trauma piling up and burying him alive until he’s shaking apart, sobs ripped out of his chest from all the places he’s desperately tried to keep hidden.

“Let it out,” Catarina says, arms tightening around him. “Feel it all. Can’t fix anything until you acknowledge there’s a problem.”

There’s a whole fucking lot of problems in his life right now, and even though Catarina seems to think otherwise, Magnus doesn‘t really believe he can fix them. Sometimes, there is no fix, even with all the money in the world, even with a dozen talented surgeons.

There are some wounds you just have to live with.

 

 

 

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, sorry. gonna need an extra chapter to get this done.

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/62_zps35zvgsuh.png.html)

 

 

  
Izzy wipes her eyes. “Gave me a scare, you jackass.”

Alec opens his mouth to talk but can’t; his tongue is thick and clumsy as he tries to form the words.

“Hey, take it easy.” She grabs a cup of water and bends the straw for him, and he sucks the cool liquid down greedily. “Careful, not too much,” she says, taking the cup away.

He licks his dry lips and tries again. His voice sounds like he's aged a thousand years. If he ever idly wondered what he'd sound like as Father Time, now he knows. “Where’s Magnus?”

Izzy sighs. “I thought you’d ask that. He’s fine. Well, he wasn’t _injured_. He went home a little while ago.”

Alec swallows painfully. “Yeah, that’s, uh, that’s good.” He didn’t even come to see him in the hospital. It’s okay. Magnus has been through a lot.

“Mom and Dad will be here soon," Izzy says. "I still haven’t been able to reach Jace.”

“Did you check the bottom of a wine bottle?”

“Did you hit your head on the way down?” Izzy asks, stroking his hair. “Wine is way too fancy for him.”

“Actually, yeah, my head kind of bounced off the stage, I think,” Alec says and Izzy winces. “But last I heard, Jace was in France, and when in France--”

“Get some rest and I’ll try him again,” Izzy says.

Alec wants to answer her, he's got something important to ask about Magnus, but he’s already drifting away.

 

\---

 

When he wakes again, his mom is standing over him.

“My stupid little boy,” she says, eyes bright with unshed tears. Alec can’t recall ever seeing her cry, and he’s sorry to cause it now. She’s never needed his protection, but he’s always wanted to give it, regardless.

“Why are all the women in my life always insulting me?” Alec manages.

“Because we love you,” Maryse says, her hand warm and soft against his skin. “Bet you wish you’d become a great concert pianist like I always wanted now, huh?”

“That would require any amount of talent,” Alec says, then coughs, dry, hacking things that make his shoulders shake.

Maryse rubs his shoulders until he's done, then grabs his glass, holding it up so he can drink again. “I think all my children are extremely talented.”

Alec drinks gratefully until she pulls the cup away and sets it down. “You’re allowed to be wrong," Alec says with a faint smile.

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” she says wryly and sits down and Alec notices that her hair is down, cascading past her shoulders. Alec eyes her carefully; since she split up with their dad, she looks younger, the weight of years of unhappiness lifted from her shoulders. He understands now how you can live in an untenable situation without realizing it, justifying your own unhappiness as the difficulty of simply being alive without noticing that life shouldn’t be so hard. It’s like the parable of the frog being boiled alive: if you put a frog into boiling water, it’ll jump out, but if you put a frog into lukewarm water and slowly turn up the heat, the frog won’t recognize the danger until it’s far too late.

Alec winces, and Maryse hits the button on his IV pump. “This should help. The nurses said we can hit it any time you need extra pain medicine.”

He feels the effects almost immediately. She leans down and kisses his forehead. She kisses like Izzy. “Sleep now, get your strength back.”

He wants to arch into her touch like he did when he was a child, wants to tell her what a mess he’s made of his life and have her fix it like she used to. But he can’t. He’s an adult and he has to live with the consequences of his actions.

  
\---

 

Magnus wakes up next to Catarina, stretched out at the end of his bed on top of the sheets, her face nestled in his shoulder. It’s simultaneously innocent and terrifyingly intimate.

Across the room, his bar cart's been restocked, because of course, he keeps a full array of top-shelf liquor in his room. Magnus was honestly shocked when he realized most people didn’t.

He’s tempted to make himself a drink and wallow for a while, but that’s how he’s always handled his problems and it’s never made them easier in the long run, just bearable in the meantime. But that’s the problem with short-term solutions: the next day always comes and there’s always a price to pay, usually with interest by then.

He pulls a blanket over Catarina and goes over to his desk. His favorite journal sits on top and he flips to the last page and sits down.

 

_“Are you writing a new song?” Alec asked, leaning into him. The sheet is tangled around his legs, hair gloriously messy. He’s a dream come to life._

_“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. I just got inspired and couldn‘t help myself,” Magnus said, gesturing at the journal in his lap._

_“S‘okay. I don‘t mind.”_

_“It’s not coming as easily as it used to,” Magnus admittedly a little ruefully. “ I think the more complicated life gets, the harder it is to separate your thoughts and organize them, to figure out what you want to say. I'm afraid I'm out of practice.”_

_“What do you want to say?” Alec asked, expression suddenly serious._

_“I don’t know,” Magnus said. And he didn’t know._

_If he could, he would say that there is so much joy and fear in handing over your heart to someone else and hoping that they’re kind with it, and he hopes Alec is kind with him when they’re over, and he hopes he can be kind to himself._

 

Magnus leans back from his desk and stretches, hearing his spine pop. Without realizing it, he’s written three pages.

“Did you finish your song?” Catarina asks from the bed.

“I’m not sure,” Magnus says and turns around to look at her. She's got her legs folded up, arms resting atop her knees and Magnus feels a warm rush of affection for her.  “It should be finished, all signs point in that direction, but it doesn’t quite feel done yet.”

 

\---

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/63_zps0ll6xztz.png.html)

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/64_zpsw95xvvjk.png.html)

 

\---

 

Alec's dreams aren't peaceful. He dreams of a smokey arena, strobing lights, a yelling crowd that drowns out all other sounds. And the very heart of it, a man on stage, hunted on all sides by invisible enemies.

Alec tries to call out a warning, but no one can hear him. He tries to push through the crowd and run up to the stage, but it's as if his feet are glued into place. He's watching the man standing there, scared and alone, and completely unable to help.

Alec looks around wildly, but no one’s holding him in place.

It’s _him_ , he realizes. He’s been the one holding himself back all along.

The man on the stage suffering? That's him, too. He's been watching, a quiet spectator in his own life. He's always had the power to stop it but didn't because he's been afraid, afraid of getting his heart broken again, afraid of making the wrong choice, afraid of what it would mean to really love someone like Magnus, who might dare to love him back.

And fear is a deeply shitty reason to make any decision. 

Well, no fucking more. He sucks in a great lungful of air and screams. His voice pierces through the music, the crowd, and the entire arena goes silent, waiting for him to make his move. 

In the hospital, Alec rolls over in bed and wakes up. 

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I think my hand just bushed your bare ass, man

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/65_zpshammccbn.jpg.html)

 

  
“You don’t have to do this,” Catarina says. “You don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”

“I know,” Magnus answers. “I need to do this for myself. My therapist agrees that it’ll be good for me.”

“You’re seeing a therapist?”

“Just started. She’s going to be coming on the road with me.”

“I didn’t know they did that.”

“They do when you’re fabulously wealthy,” Magnus says smugly. “You can get almost anything if you throw enough money at the right people.”

Catarina says, “But some things can’t be bought.”

“No,” Magnus says, “I suppose not. Why are we being so melancholy? This is supposed to be my triumphant return to the stage. Semi-triumphant.” He looks around at the dressing room. It’s definitely a step down from his usual digs with its plain walls and threadbare carpet, but the first venue they looked at expected him to change in the public restroom, so he feels pretty lucky right now. It’s a hodgepodge affair thrown together quickly, and he’s not making enough off ticket sales to buy an extra large bucket of fried chicken, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s got a new album to promote, a few songs he’s written himself, and a tiny spark of hope that someday soon he’ll feel -- fulfilled. Happy. He _hopes_.

“This is a good thing, Magnus.”

“I once loved performing,” Magnus says. “I just want to love it again. I can’t let anyone take that away from me.” He wishes Alec were here, but Alec doesn’t have his phone, lost it in the chaos of the night during the last concert, smashed beneath the feet of security, medical personnel, cops.  
Izzy’s keeping him updated on Alec‘s progress, but she says he’s been really out of it. When they see each other again, Magnus wants them to both have clear heads. He’ll be released from the hospital in a day or two, then maybe they can have a real talk with some real goddamn honesty for a change. Besides, Magnus comes with press, security issues, and a mountain of publicity. It’s up to Alec to decide where they go from here.

In the meantime, there’s nothing to do but wait.

He looks at himself in the grimy mirror and lets out a shuddering breath. “The show must go on,” he tells himself.

The world doesn’t stop because you’re unsure of yourself. It doesn’t stop because you’ve been bruised and battered and tossed around.

Life goes on, and so will Magnus.

Still, he wishes Alec were here. He holds his phone in his hand and texts a quick message. It’s easy to be brave when there are no consequences. It’s everything else that’s difficult.

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/66_zpsids3vgjt.png.html)

 

\---

 

When Alec wakes up, Jace is there. “Bout time, sleeping beauty,” Jace says, brushing his blond hair back from his face. He looks tanned and healthy. Kicking around Europe and chasing after a girl seems to have agreed with him.

“Thought you were living it up with all the other ex-pats,” Alec says.

“I was until you had to go and steal my thunder. Mom got a hold of me. I had my phone off.”

“Sorry,” Alec says, licking his dry lips, trying to shake off the lingering vestiges of his disturbing dream. “What thunder did I steal? Your specific thunder or a more general weather pattern?”

“I may have possibly gotten married, hence the phone,” Jace says, managing to flush bright pink and look incredibly pleased with himself at the same time.  
Alec sits up, startled, and winces. “Ow, fuck.”

“Yeah,” Jace says. “Take it easy, you just got shot, you big goober.”

Totally unable to move past it like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe, Alec asks, “How does one possibly get married?”

“Like all good and maybe terrible decisions, it was preceded by an alarming amount of alcohol and a justice of the peace. We were having a great time when I got this annoying phone call.”

“Sorry to ruin your maybe-honeymoon.”

Jace’s face does something complicated, a cross between sucking on a lemon and extreme constipation, all his natural bravado collapsing in on itself, folding up like a damaged accordion. “Yeah, whatever. Just try not to get shot again, okay? You listening, asshole?”

“I‘m listening,” Alec says.

“You can’t die before me. You're the only one who knows my funeral plans for a parade and a group of my wailing ex-girlfriends following behind. Izzy and mom would get it all wrong, make it girly."

"When you die," Izzy says, coming into the room and holding a worrying amount of shopping bags, "we're going to cover you with daisies and send you up the river with a procession of ducks.”

“How could you?” Jace hisses.

“Okay,” Alec says as loudly as he can before this conversation devolves any further. “None of us are going to die. We’ll all just live forever.”

“That’s an idea,“ Izzy says, and pulls out a thick wool blanket and spreads it over Alec‘s legs. “Also, I got you a new phone. Managed to get your old sim card from the police and I’ve already switched them out.”

“Thanks, Iz,” Alec says, eagerly grabbing his phone and turning it on.

“Look, before you call Magnus, because I know he’s the first person you’re going to call--

“I’m not--” Alec protests, knowing full goddamn that was exactly what he was planning.

She holds up a hand. “Just think about what you’re going to say to him. Be fair to him and be fair to yourself. It’s unkind to want someone just because you can have them. You have to want him for him. I know he doesn’t seem like it, but Magnus is easy to hurt. I know you got burned last time, but you have to be sure of Magnus, as sure as anyone can be, I guess.”

“He didn’t even stay at the hospital,” Alec says peevishly, picking at the blanket. It‘s much too warm for the room but he wouldn‘t dare tell that to Izzy. It’s not like Alec woke up expecting to see Magnus and felt sick when he realized he wasn’t there.

Her eyes soften as she sits on the edge of his hospital bed. “Of course he did. He spent the whole night here until he knew you were going to be okay. He only left because of the press, didn’t want to give them the wrong idea if you weren’t comfortable with it. He left for you. He loves you. Don’t use him because you’re lonely.”

“Thanks for making me sound like a desperate old spinster,” Alec grumbles.

“Aren’t you?” she asks, kissing him on the top of the head.

His life is ridiculous; this situation is ridiculous. Izzy is putting a toboggan on his head and rearranging some novels she brought him. He‘s going to be discharged in a day or so with a bullet lodged in-between his chest and shoulder, in what could be ungenerously referred to as his armpit area. It’s not glamorous like the Hollywood movies, but it definitely puts a crimp in his style and stings like a sonofabitch. Mostly, his doctors are afraid of tetanus. After being dramatically shot on stage, lockjaw would be a humiliating way to go.

When surveying his disaster of a life, there are three things that Alec is uncomfortably aware of: that he is sweating profusely in an unattractive fashion, that he is hopelessly, helplessly in love with Magnus Bane, and that Magnus doesn’t - can’t _possibly_ \- feel the same way.

But even fucked up, damaged people have something to offer. If Magnus wants him, he thinks, vividly recalling his dream, Alec is his.

 

\---

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/67_zpsengbgjjd.jpg.html)

 

\---

 

  
Magnus is in the bathroom, washing his hands when he hears his dressing room door open. “Catarina, is that you?” he calls out.

“Yeah, just laying your outfit out for tomorrow.”

“I’m a big boy, I can pick out my own clothes,” he chides, walking out with a towel in his hands.

“Ragnor says you make terrible choices when you do that,” Catarina says. “Remember the leather chaps.”

“I think I’m over that phase,” Magnus says with a pained grin. ”Not really interested in shocking people anymore. My life’s been shocking enough lately.”

His phone chirps, and Catarina picks it up.

“Message sent,” she says, glancing at the screen.

“I didn’t send a message,” Magnus says, puzzled as she passes his phone over. He looks down, and the bottom drops out of his stomach. The towel hits the floor, forgotten.

“No, no, no, oh fuck,” he says in horror.

  
\---

 

A late message on Alec's phone:

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/68_zps8xwaknaa.png.html)

  
\---

  
“Izzy’s really smart,” Jace says once Izzy’s footsteps have disappeared down the hallway to go get “real food” after she and Jace finished polishing off Alec’s endless supply of curiously filmy hospital Jello.

“On that, she’d agree with you,” Alec agrees, staring down at his phone, carefully touching the screen. Magnus. Loves him. Alec checks his Twitter and sees Magnus is performing a few hours away. A day trip, he could be there by the evening.

“But love isn’t always smart, man. Sometimes you just have to go for it.”

“Go for it?” Alec asks doubtfully. “Is that what you did with Clary? I’m unclear -- are you married or not?

“Not sure,” Jace admits, “there was a lot of alcohol and a pastor of dubious ordination involved.”

“Well, at least now we know she makes solid choices while drunk.”

“Hey,” Jace protests mildly, “that’s my maybe-wife you’re talking about there.”

“Give your maybe-wife my kind regards,” Alec says, in as bitchy of a tone as he can manage. It’s surprisingly hard with an extra hole in your body.

“I’m just saying, Alec. If love isn’t worth taking a chance on, what the hell is?”

“Yeah, okay,” Alec says.

“Really? I convinced you?” Jace asks, looking perturbed. “I never convince anyone. Well, Clary, I guess, but I think that was mostly lingering fondness and alcohol.”

“I’d already arrived at that conclusion, but why interrupt a good monologue?” The sheets feel like sandpaper. His ass went number forty-eight hours ago. He grunts as he swings his legs over the bed.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“To do something stupid,” Alec says, gritting his teeth. “C’mon before the meds wear off.”

“Aren’t you going to finish your antibiotics?”

“No.”

“You’re contributing to hospital superbugs,” Jace complains. “Oh holy fuck, you’re really going for it, huh? I was speaking metaphorically earlier.”

“You can’t even spell metaphorical,” Alec says, testing his weight on shaky legs. “Are you going to help me or not? I’m going with or without you, but it would be easier with.”

“Yeah, I can spell it,” Jace says pleasantly. “It’s spelled m-e-t-a-f-u.” But he hurries to Alec’s side and wraps an arm around his waist, probably so Alec won’t fall and bash his head against the linoleum floor. Next to tetanus, it’s the second worst way Alec can think of to die.

“Gigantor, can you walk? Because I don’t think I can carry your heavy ass to the car.” Jace’s hand loses its grip and slips down, and he makes a sound like a wounded animal. “Ahhhh, why didn’t you warn me you weren’t wearing any underwear?”

“No one wears underwear in the hospital, Jace.”

“True,” Jace acknowledges. “I’m not wearing any right now. Oh my god, I think my hand just bushed your bare ass, man.”

“You should be so lucky,” Alec snipes. “Thank fuck my ass is numb from that shitty bed and I didn’t have to feel it.”

Jace takes a few deep, bracing breaths. “Let us never speak of this again.”

“Done,” Alec says quickly. “Now, help me get on some pants before I flash the whole hospital.”

“The nurses would riot,” Jace says.

 

\---

 

Izzy gets back just as Jace is helping Alec zip up his pants, another thing that is embarrassingly difficult to do one-handed.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Jace says miserably."

This is probably exactly what it looks like,” Alec says, leaning back against the bed and sucking in his stomach.

Izzy bites her lip. “It looks like you’re running out of the hospital to go see Magnus. You sure about this?”

“Yes,” Alec says, just as Jace makes a triumphant sound.

“It’s really hard to dress other dudes, I don’t know why you’re so into it.”

“I think he mostly undresses them," Izzy tells Jace, who squawks indignantly. Alec covers his face with his one good hand. “I'll go get the car,” she says and drops packets of m&ms on the bedside table. Honestly, they’re all disastrous adults. “We have to hurry before mom gets here and stops us.”

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/69_zpsimmmyy3z.png.html)


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #MagnusBaneGoesCrazy #AlsoLikesShovingFans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading. :)

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/70_zpsv285zhhv.png.html)

 

 

Despite putting on a hell of a show, Magnus keeps noticing people looking down and nudging each other. The problem with these smaller venues is that people are so close, he can see when he's boring them.

By the end, Magnus manages to put on a half-assed encore, but he can tell only half of his audience is listening, instead, checking their phones, the artificial glow like a film of bioluminescent algae on a sea of bored millennials.

Magnus finishes his last set and steps behind the stage.

“For fuck’s sake,” he says, half-heartedly returning the congratulations from the stagehands for a moment while he finally checks his own phone. Instead of being his moment of overcoming, the pinnacle of his shining glory, he's desperately scrolling through Twitter. He has a ton of notifications. Not unusual. People are always tagging him, and he often tries to respond, but a single name catches his eye.

Alec’s here?

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/71_zps2k7oj7ff.png.html)

 

\---

 

Magnus runs back out on stage, ignoring the rumblings from the crowd. He gets all the way to the edge of the stage, takes a running leap into the confused audience, and elbows his way through them, shouts following him close behind.

Only sheer surprise and determined security keep the crowd from rioting. People are taping him with their phones, snapping pictures. He's probably trending on Twitter: #MagnusBaneGoesCrazy #AlsoLikesShovingFans. Later, he’ll have to go on another apology tour, probably stop by GMA while Hoda sloshes wine around and remarks on the impressive size of his biceps. But that’s tomorrow.

This is today, and all he can think about is seeing Alec.

Magnus continues pushing people out of the way, eyes darting around, looking for a familiar lanky profile. "Sorry, sorry, excuse me," he mutters while the guards behind him shout instructions. People keep yelling, "I love you!"

In another lifetime, Magnus might have enjoyed the frenzy, the spectacle of it all, but right now, he doesn't need the mindless love of strangers, he needs Alec.

 

\---

 

A message pops up on his phone:

  
[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/72_zpsuxpvqgrk.png.html)

 

\---

 

Magnus bursts out the cheap metal door, security scrambling to block the exit and give him some privacy.

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/73_zps9q7ilzgf.png.html)

 

As soon as the doors swing shut, the sounds of the crowd die out. A street over, an ambulance siren goes by, someone's cussing out their dog like a crazy person, a couple is on their first date, laughing and holding hands. The city is pulsating, alive. But in this alley, it's totally still. It's just him, Alec, and Chinese Yum Yum's dumpster.

Alec looks around the alley, takes an unsteady step forward and crushes a dirty needle beneath his shoe. “This is a little less glamorous than I envisioned."

"I'm trying something new."

"How's that working out for you?" Alec asks. He looks deathly pale, swaying on his feet and oddly sweaty. To Magnus, he's never looked better.

“That remains to be seen." Magnus clears his throat a little uncomfortably. "Look, I've been with a lot of people--"

“How many people,” Alec says suspiciously. “Wait, I don’t want to know.”

Because he's real shitty at relationships and never can shut up when it suits him, Magnus barrels on, “There’s nothing quite like waking up next to a stranger and having them take out a sex toy that needs 16 d-batteries."

“I definitely don’t want to know this,” Alec says loudly. "Please get to the point."

“My point is, I’ve been with a lot of people, some of them much better for me than others, but none of them ever made me feel like you -- strong, capable of anything."

"Maybe you just needed extra batteries," Alec mutters.

“I hate you,” Magnus says, laughing. "You're missing my point entirely."

“That’s unfortunate," Alec murmurs, taking another step closer, eye to eye, nothing between them now. No pretenses, no lies. Like always, Alec sets Magnus' pulse fluttering as Magnus tilts his face up to meet his. "Because I’m in love with you.

“I didn’t think--" Magnus says, heart lodged somewhere in his throat. “No one’s ever said that to me.”

Alec looks adorably puzzled. "Your fans tell you they love you all the time.”

He'd thought Alec was the strong silent type. It's startling for Magnus to realize Alec is genuinely confused 90% of the time. He's reasonably self-aware, but the lens with which he views the world is so modest, so unkind to himself, that he often misses what's right in front of him.

"No one who’s ever known me," Magnus says.

“But--”

“No one that I've ever loved back,” Magnus interrupts. He bites his lip and lunges forward to pull Alec close. Alec’s arm automatically comes up, fingers lightly skimming the small of Magnus' back.

It is nasty here. There are broken beer bottles, cigarette butts, and something terrifying stuck to the bottom of his shoe that Magnus doesn't want to think about. As far as declarations of love go, it's not ideal. It's a little grotty and imperfect, but it's perfectly _them_.

Magnus waits for it and isn't disappointed: Alec is kissing him, lips soft and slick and warm. Magnus sighs into the heat of his mouth, body melting against his, and holds Alec tightly, vowing to never let go now that he finally has him.

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/74_zpsp1qsswly.jpg.html)

 

“Argh,” Alec gasps softly, pulling back. "Magnus, I feel--"

“Is it love?” Magnus asks happily.

“Yes, that,” Alec says, “also I think I popped some stitches.”

“You idiot!” Magnus yells, shoving Alec back. “Why didn’t you stay in the hospital? I would have come to see you.”

"I probably should have done that instead,” Alec agrees, holding his side, which Magnus notes with no small amount of horror, appears to be bleeding.

“Well, we're taking you back there right now,” Magnus says, tugging him towards the street.

“I just didn’t want to wait to see you,” Alec says, coughing a little sadly and following behind.

"God, you're so fired," Magnus says, looking back at him affectionately.

"I figured," Alec sighs, shrugging philosophically, then winces as the motion jars his shoulder again.

"Stop that."

Alec stops walking so abruptly that Magnus nearly trips and falls over. "Not _walking_ ," Magnus says, exasperated.

“Magnus, Magnus, oh my god,” Alec says in the voice of a man who has reviewed his recent actions and realized he's probably made more than his fair share of poor life choices. “I've really fucked up a lot.”

“I hope I’m not one of those mistakes,” Magnus says seriously, taking Alec's arm and gently leading him forward.

“Of course not. You’re probably the one thing that I’ve gotten right. _Still_. Clearly, I can't be trusted to look out for myself."

As they head towards the end of the alley, towards the buzz of the press that's begun to gather there, towards the car where Izzy and Jace are waiting, Izzy looking exasperated and Jace eating takeout from the dodgy-looking Chinese restaurant, Magnus threads his fingers through Alec's and helps him keep pressure on his side, his other arm wrapped tight around Alec, holding him steady.

Magnus doesn’t know what their future is going to look like, but for the first time that he can remember, he's excited to find out.

“Well, isn't it lucky then,” Magnus tells him, “that you have me to protect you.”

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/fatalewrites/media/75_zpsn5pnzk9r.jpg.html)


End file.
